


Tonight I Give You My Heart

by zetsubooty



Series: Honey Clovers [1]
Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Dissociation, Flower Language, Future Fic, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubooty/pseuds/zetsubooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakaeguchi Yuuto has just realised his dream of opening his own flower shop. New to the city, he's quick to try and establish ties with the people in his community, but some of them are decidedly more warm to it than others. Certain people are, in fact, distinctly unpleasant. So what the heck is surly cafe owner Abe Takaya doing, standing on his front stoop with a coffee in hand?</p><p>Of course, these things never proceed smoothly: mixed signals, complicated feelings, overstepped boundaries, and even simple shyness all serve to keep these two apart. But Sakaeguchi knows the value of good things, and that the best ones are worth waiting for. (Doesn't mean he LIKES waiting...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apple Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> Another repost! I was hoping to have another chapter of Arc ready for this weekend, but no dice so WHOOPS have the first chapter of one of my more taisetsuna fics. uwu I'm gonna be alternating posting chapters of this with TWM, unless I have new content to put up (which I hopefully will next week!!).

“I suppose it’s not _strictly_ speaking the done thing to bring a present that requires looking after, but...”

“No, it’s great!” The tall man with close-shaved hair smiles pleasantly as he comes around the counter to take the small pot from him. Sakaeguchi smiles back easily, feeling immediately comfortable, pleased that at least _one_ of his new neighbours seems friendly. One of the places he’d dropped by this morning, they’d waved off his present, leaving him smiling tensely, too taken aback by the rudeness to do more than excuse himself as quickly as possible. Most of the other business owners had been more polite, but seemed a little perplexed. But Sakaeguchi has been determined, because a gift, however ungraciously received, is a good way to form invaluable bonds.

Nothing ungracious about the young man, who introduces himself as Suyama, the proprietor of the smallish bookshop. Sakaeguchi looks at him sharply, a little surprised. "Oh, my! You're so young, though!"

"But so're you."

"Ah, well..." Sakaeguchi waves it off with an embarrassed smile. "I was just...fortunate. We're lucky to be able to follow our passions, eh?"

"Yeah..." Suyama looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes himself, brightening. "How do I care for it?"

"Bright sun, if you can manage it, and not too much water. It's a hardy cultivar, so it should be pretty easy to look after." Suyama nods, striding over to the window and setting the pot on the floor before clearing a small display of cookbooks. "O...oh! You don't have to...in your store..."

"No, that's all right! Geraniums are for friendship, right? It'll be more meaningful if it goes somewhere we can BOTH see it." Suyama goes a bit pink at his own words; Sakaeguchi suppresses a laugh. “Besides, that way, you can check up on it, make sure I’m looking after it properly.”

"Don’t think I won’t! But… I see you’ve read some about flowers?"

Suyama sighs, picking up the stack of displaced books. "Well, it's pretty slow still, and I get bored..."

"Ah, then perhaps I'll drop by again and browse your horticultural section from time to time! Keep you company."

“Sure, I’ll look forward to it!”

“Well, then...” With that, Sakaeguchi takes his leave, walking back down the narrow alley with a spring in his step, spirits bolstered.

* * *

 

When he arrives the next morning to find a small rectangular parcel on his stoop, he smiles, having a pretty good idea where it came from. Sakaeguchi brings it inside, setting it down on the counter with his shoulder bag and mostly forgetting about it while he ties on his apron and then walks around the room greeting the plants. Once he’s done, he cranks open the new pale mint green- and white-striped awning and carts out the cheery pastel buckets filled with his wares (more expensive, but he can’t stand the look of beautiful flowers in dingy containers). Then, there’s opening the cash, reviewing the phone messages and orders for today (none, so far, but habits are important), and sweeping the floor of the plant-related debris.

The alleyway that houses the bookshop eventually opens out into a small courtyard. There’s a restaurant on one side, quiet when it’s still so early, a few walk-up offices, a café, and, fortunately snagging the southern exposure, Sakaeguchi’s little florist’s. He surveys the buildings fondly, greeting them in his mind just as he’d greeted the plants when he came in. New friends just waiting to happen. He’s sure the poor reception his gifts had received these past few days was simply borne of startlement, not any lack of goodwill. He studiously ignores the grouchy-looking guy sitting out front of the café with early fall sunlight shining in his short hair who keeps surreptitiously glaring at him as he brings out the last of the buckets of flowers. With a determined nod to himself, Sakaeguchi turns and walks back into his shop. He just has to be patient, keep his chin up, and everything will go _great_.

 _New friends_... His eyes go to the parcel. It’s wrapped in a cheery cream furoshiki with a blue damask pattern on it, evocative of plants without being glaringly obvious. _His girlfriend’s, maybe…?_ He unwraps it slowly, taking his time to fold up the cloth and pointedly keeping his eyes off the book until he’s finished. He picks it up, lips pressed together in an excited little smile. It’s an elderly copy of a flora of Japan; the overleaf says from sometime in the twenties. First edition. It’s an English book, rendering it somewhat useless to him as a reference, but a treasure nonetheless for the beautifully sketched plates of various flowers, and even, making him gasp in an excited breath, some sketches of famous gardens from the era.

Sakaeguchi sets the book down on the counter, turning and leaning back against it, cheeks flushed. _This is FAR more valuable than a measly little geranium..._ He covers his mouth with his hand, staring wide-eyed across at the bank of fridges. _I can’t accept it. Can I? It’ll be rude if I return it..._ He examines the floor, debating, which is when he notices a small piece of paper.

He picks it up. It’s a neatly handwritten note; it seems like it fell out of the book.

 

> You seem like the type who will be standing there worrying about whether your gift merited this one. Don’t worry about it! It was given freely to someone I think will appreciate it more than me. I consider it an investment in our future friendship; I’m sure you will return its value and more to me in the form of pleasant company and the cheery sight of your shop thriving!
> 
> \--Suyama Shouji

 

Sakaeguchi stares down at the note for several seconds, biting his lip, then bursts out laughing. “What a cheesy message! Geez...” He rereads it, still snickering, then notices there’s a little arrow in the bottom left corner. He turns the note to find _P.S. I have a friend who could probably translate any passages you’re particularly interested in._

_Well, at that point, I might as well stumble through with a dictionary myself, but I appreciates the offer._

He slides the note back into the book and sets it aside with a smile, going to greet a middle-aged woman in a suit who is examining some of his prepared bouquets.

* * *

 

He can tell himself he’s not getting a crush on Suyama all he wants, insist he’s not putting himself through that agony yet again, but the truth is, any time he runs into him at the train station or the bank, any time he decides to lock his door in the slow hours of the afternoon and wander down that picturesque alley, his heart pounds and his stomach twists with nervous excitement, an unpleasant reminder of the days when anxiety would send him running for the bathroom.

And it doesn’t help that Suyama is so damn _friendly_ and _helpful_ , calling his attention to this or that new arrival, asking him what sorts of reference books would be useful and appealing to gardeners, commiserating about the joys of being a small business owner, listening with a small smile as Sakaeguchi animatedly describes the various types of people who come into his shop.

“My favourite--well, not really my favourite, but certainly the most lucrative, are the panicked boyfriends and husbands. They’ll run in and just blurt out, ‘You got a vase? Gimme a vase!’ ‘Give me the most expensive bouquet! I messed up BIG time!’”

Suyama laughs. “I doubt you actually give them the most expensive ones, though.”

Sakaeguchi hangs his head with a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah... I’d rather they please their partner,” a careful choice of words and flick the eyes over to see if Suyama reacts; he doesn’t, so continuing on, “enough that they’ll return. So I try to send them off with something that’s appropriate, even if it’s not as good for me...”

“There, there, I’m sure that’s better in the end...” Suyama laughs at him again, then claps him on the shoulder lightly, and Sakaeguchi tries his best not to care. A tall, imposing-looking man hovering in the back corner looks at them, oddly startled; Sakaeguchi thinks he’s seen him there before.

Suyama also introduces him to the neighbourhood, pointing out small pretty details, shortcuts, or the cheap grocery store down an odd backstreet. Sakaeguchi’s new to the city, and appreciates it greatly, except that with each new kindness he can feel his affection grow. It’s unfortunate, and he kicks himself for it, for the way he knows his face lights up when, after he’s been there for about a month, Suyama pokes his head in to his shop and says, “Hey, I desperately need a tea. Wanna come with...?”

“Sure!” Steeling himself, he hangs up his apron, drying his hands with a cloth, and checks his pocket for his wallet and keys before following Suyama outside. _It’s not like I’m being Asked To Have A Cup Of Coffee. I’m pretty sure. It’s NOT. I shouldn’t get my hopes up. If my HEART WOULD ONLY LISTEN…_

He’s popped by the café several times, usually on his way home for a warm cup of hot chocolate to beat the growing evening chill. And, of course, when he first opened, to hand a few small posies to a sedate-seeming young man with large eyes and freckles who thanked him perfunctorily, then hollered at someone in the back to ask if they had any vases. The kid is there now, operating a gleamingly clean espresso machine with practiced ease, several mugs and to-go cups arranged in neat sequence on the counter beside him. He glances over his shoulder at them, holding a milk pitcher at an angle as the steam wand splutters and then hisses into it, and nods brusquely.

“With ya in a sec!”

They nod back, smiling, then return to a discussion of the novel Suyama’s been reading recently, unhurried. The door opens behind them, though, and a gaggle of young women come in, closely followed by a young family, one parent trying to hush the toddler she’s carrying.

The young man makes an irritated noise that’s mostly obscured by the noise of the machine, then turns to yell at the back again. “ABE! NEED A LITTLE HELP, HERE.”

“ABE-SAN TO YOU, BRAT.”

Sakaeguchi’s heard that voice before. Answering that no, they don’t have any vases, why the hell would the need _vases?_ And more than a few times raised in irritation at obnoxious customers outside. But he hadn’t seen the man it belonged to, or at least not knowingly.

He comes out frowning down at the pair of plastic gloves he’s stripping off, wearing an apron with the café’s logo printed on the breast that looks a bit less functionally covering on him than it does on the slim kid who’s now calling out “Cappuccino!” and setting one of the cups out on the high, narrow bar. Sakaeguchi’s first impression of him is that he’s…large. About as tall as Suyama, but with appealingly broad shoulders and surprisingly appealingly broad hips. He wears a plain black cotton t-shirt, its simplicity and the soft fabric showing off his lean, muscular torso, its fashionableness kind of ruined by the slouchy jeans he’s wearing. His hair has that perfect ‘just rolled out of bed’ rumpledness that must either take him ages or no time at all. Regardless of his feelings for the man who’s currently examining the menu board thoughtfully, Sakaeguchi can’t help feeling suddenly self-conscious, hoping his hair isn’t sticking up and he doesn’t have any greenery stuck to him.

And then the man opens his mouth.

“Izumi, you wanna—tch, why do I bother.” There’s an affectionateness to the small unimpressed smile he has as he edges past the young man to come stand at the cash register, but something about it is still a little grating. “Hey. Oh, hi, Suyama. What do you want?”

Suyama sets a travel mug on the counter. “London fog for me. And...?”

Sakaeguchi jumps, colouring a little when he realises Suyama’s intending to pay for him. “Oh! I...” There’s no polite way to refuse, no way that doesn’t involve announcing, right in front of this blandly staring lunk who leans his hands on the counter, that if Suyama continues with these small kindnesses, he’ll _really_ fall for him. So, instead, he just says, “Thanks,” and then, “I’ll just have a latte.”

The man looks at him, jerking his chin expectantly; Sakaeguchi stares back into his (interestingly shaped and appealingly dark grey, if a little tired-looking) eyes, feeling his mouth stretch into an uncomfortable smile.

“Large. He’ll have a large latte,” Suyama assists. The man presses several buttons on the screen of the cash register, announcing the price, then looks at Sakaeguchi again, eyes narrowed as though he’s trying to recall something unpleasant.

“You own that flower shop.”

“Ah...yes. I’m Sakaeguchi. Pleased to meet you!” He dips his head, smiling more warmly.

“Abe. Pleased to meet you.” He doesn’t look particularly pleased, but Sakaeguchi doggedly maintains his smile until Suyama has his change and they wander over to wait at the bar.

“First time meeting the boss?” Izumi smirks at them, dropping a tea bag into Suyama’s mug. “Charming, isn’t he?”

“I HEARD THAT.”

Izumi rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, but grins at them. “He’s nicer than he seems. He just doesn’t like being interrupted when he’s busy with something.”

“I see...” Sakaeguchi says, more out of politeness than any particular conviction that the kid is telling the truth. He looks over to where the young women are giggling and whispering amongst themselves, seeming to spend about as much time looking at Abe as at the menu board; from the set of his shoulders, Abe is about as impressed as Sakaeguchi. Abe puts up with it for another minute or so before he snaps something impatient at them, making the girls jump, and then, cowed, give him their orders.

Izumi is an efficient worker, and it’s not long before he sets their drinks on the bar, inhaling deeply with a broad grin. Suyama holds up a hand with an indulgent smile. “Yes, yes, we’re right here, you don't need to call it.” He takes both drinks, handing Sakaeguchi’s to him with a smile. “Best coffee in the neighbourhood! Especially when this one makes it.” Izumi dips his chin, paying unnecessary attention to the shot he’s pulling as he smiles shyly.

Sakaeguchi’s starting to get the sinking feeling that Suyama’s just _like_ that, is just the type who’s quick to leap in with a kind word of support. _Really need to shut this definitely-not-a-crush down._ His eyes catch on Abe as he turns towards the small counter with cream and sugar and the like laid out on it, and his eyes narrow a little resentfully. _Why couldn’t YOU be more charming? Not that that would be any better, really..._ He hmphs to himself, then looks down, scanning.

He sets down his latte, returning to the bar (he’s certainly not going to ask _Abe_ , if he can avoid it). “Hey, by any chance, do you have any honey...?” he asks with a hopeful smile.

Izumi gives him a mockingly bright smile, then turns. “Hey, Abe- _san_ , _have_ we got any honey?”

“No,” comes the crisp response.

“Abe- _san_ doesn’t want to order honey. Abe- _san_ thinks it’s a pain, and sugar is just as good. Abe- _san_ thinks honey is messy and annoying, even though Abe- _san_ isn’t the one who has to wipe up after customers.”

“Abe-san is also the one who can fire your smart-mouthed ass any time he likes.”

“Abe-san’s opinions on honey are, of course, perfectly valid and reasonable and to be respected.” Izumi’s smile becomes a sympathetic twist.

“Ah, don’t worry about it! Sugar is just fine...” Sakaeguchi waves his hands at the young man, then turns back to his latte. Sugar _isn’t_ just as good, and he doesn’t understand how _anybody_ could think such a thing.

As they leave, he hears Abe muttering (although it’s perhaps wrong to call it muttering when it’s that loud), “Who the hell puts _honey_ in a _latte?_ ” Sakaeguchi huffs out an indignant noise, pushing the door shut behind them with a bit more force than necessary.

Suyama side-eyes him, suppressing a smile. “He really _is_ nice, once you get to know him.”

“I’m _sure_ ,” Sakaeguchi replies acerbically.

“He’s just a little...rough.”

“ _Quite_.”

Suyama laughs at that, and Sakaeguchi finds himself drawn in, smiling back at him, then waving cheerily from the door to his shop.

At least the coffee is delicious.

* * *

 

He peevishly avoids the café after that, braving frozen fingers for the few minutes it takes to get to the Starbucks next to the station. He doesn’t like their hot chocolate as much, but at least there’s no glowering proprietor to put him off it. And somehow, now he’s been introduced, Sakaeguchi seems to see Abe all the time, hovering around the front of his café like a storm cloud, once or twice in the front of Suyama’s shop (sending Sakaeguchi on a significant detour so it doesn’t _look_ like he’s avoiding him). He almost gets his post-work drink more regularly _just_ to spite Abe, even though there’s no way he knows and really, Sakaeguchi doubts he cares.

It’s perhaps two or three weeks later, a slow rainy day, when he returns from dropping in late on Suyama (who seemed oddly out-of-sorts, though he didn’t reveal why) to find an unfortunately recognisable figure standing on his stoop, shading his eyes with his hand to peer into his shop. He glares at the back of Abe’s head, thinking _what the hell do YOU want?_ with what even he can acknowledge is unfair crabbiness. He even allows himself to imagine turning around and leaving Abe standing in the rain, and finds that when he steps up close enough to call a greeting, he’s smiling quite genuinely, if a little nastily.

“Good afternoon, Abe-san! Can I help you?”

“Why’s your door shut? It says you’re still open.”

“Ah, if it’s slow, sometimes I’ll pop out. You weren't waiting long, were you?” Abe makes a negatory noise and shifts aside so he can unlock the door, and Sakaeguchi steps up beside him, lifting his umbrella enough to accommodate Abe’s greater height. Despite the chill, and the fact that he’s just wearing a plain burgundy v-neck shirt and jeans, Abe radiates an impressive amount of heat, something that Sakaeguchi tries not to be conscious of and that definitely doesn’t leave him fumbling with his keys at _all_.

Sakaeguchi finally gets the door open, and pushes inside, shaking his umbrella and setting it in the plastic stand. He shuts the door behind them, then wipes his feet on the mat, taking a few steps inside before turning to smile back at Abe. And trying not to notice that he’s warm enough that the glass door behind him is steaming up a little.

“Ah, let me get you a towel!” Turning hurriedly, he rushes into the back room, hanging up his coat and finding one of the towels he’d started keeping here for just this purpose, and brings it out to Abe. _No reason not to be kind._

“Thanks.” Abe smiles gratefully as he accepts it, a surprisingly gentle expression, then holds something out to him. “Here.”

A cup, still warm against Sakaeguchi’s lightly chilled fingers when he takes it. Abe looks away, vigorously toweling off his hair.

“Thanks...” He stares down at it, eyebrows pulling together in a small frown, then remembers himself and takes a sip.

_!!!_

Abe examines the assortment of potted plants artfully arranged up the middle of the shop as he brusquely rubs down his arms. "It's no good us carrying honey if you never come in," he grumbles at a philodendron. Sakaeguchi just stares at him, then laughs, leaning forward and patting Abe’s elbow. "What?" Abe snatches his arm away.

"It's delicious. _Thank_ you. I'll be sure to come in more from now on." He finds himself warming to Abe; perhaps Izumi and Suyama were right.

“Mm.” Or perhaps not: Abe stares over into the coolers, wrinkling his nose, then, after a moment, asks, "Do people seriously spend that kind of money on _flowers?_ " He sounds personally offended.

"That, and more. You should see what some shops charge, especially for their big bouquets. Nevermind if you so much as _mention_ the word wedding."

Abe makes a thoroughly disgusted face. _Oh? Not a big fan of weddings, then? Somehow, I'm not surprised...probably FAR too much joy and fun for you…_

"What a waste. They're pretty for a couple days, then they die.” He finally looks back at Sakaeguchi, continuing accusatorily, " _Yours_ did. They didn't last a week before it was petals and crap everywhere."

Sakaeguchi gives him an unimpressed look, then sighs. He'd _like_ to be the type to snap something out about _then what the hell are you doing still standing in my damn shop, bringing me coffee and dripping on my floor?_ but… Instead, he just puts on his most patient smile and says, "But…even if they’re brief, it's these things that bring colour to life, isn't it?" Abe narrows his eyes, mouth pulled into a flat line. "Flowers...sweet coffee... These things aren't necessary, they don't _do_ anything, exactly, but they make people a little happier, and _I_ think that's important. It's a wonderful thing to be able to bring joy to someone else, and whenever I send someone home with a bouquet or a plant under their arm and a smile on their face..." Embarrassed heat warms his cheeks, but he’s determined to make his point to this unpleasant man. "It's those small pleasures that make life worth living, don't you think? They carry you through tough times and make the good ones that much better. I, for one, can't imagine life without them. I mean, I suppose reading a good manga or catching a fly or listening to your favourite song won’t--"

"Hey, you play baseball?" Abe steps toward him, eyebrows raised. There's an almost childish excitement to him that Sakaeguchi does not, in _any_ way, find appealing.

"Ah, well, I used to... Haven't had a chance to look into any local adult leagues, yet." He notices, abruptly, that it appears that Abe’s hair does, in fact, just _do_ that, looking for all its dampness very nice to run one’s fingers through. He turns hurriedly, putting the counter between himself and Abe, who (annoyingly) follows him, looming across the counter as Sakaeguchi rustles around some papers trying to look busy.

"You any good?" Unsurprisingly blunt.

"Well, I'm nothing to write home about, and I still can't send the ball past outfielders, despite the stunning two-and-a- half centimeters I put on since high school," he says, rocking up on his toes to emphasize the joke; Abe doesn’t laugh. "But I'd say I'm about as dependable of a second baseman as any, and I can lay down a bunt pretty damn well."

Abe smiles warmly enough, though, straightening. "You should come play for the team I'm on. Our second is really more comfortable in the outfield, so there's a chance you could get in. The season won't start until spring, of course, but want me to let you know when it does?"

Sakaeguchi finds himself glad he'd turned away to tuck something back on a shelf, feeling his cheeks heat up. _Does this weirdo LIKE me, for some reason? Or does he just like baseball that much?_ Turning to eye Abe consideringly, he decides he can't tell. Either way, he'd been meaning to look into something like that once he'd gotten settled, and having a familiar face, however dubiously pleasant it might be, wouldn't hurt. "Sure, sounds great. Let me know?"

Abe nods, a perfunctory gesture, then steps back, avoiding his eyes. "Well. Good, then. I guess... I guess I'd better get back, then, and leave you to..."

"To my _bustling_ business?"

"Yeah," Abe grins at him. "Hope things pick up for you soon."

"I hope so, too. Thanks, again!" he raises the coffee cup, then takes a sip, smiling at Abe and then taking another before he continues, "It's _really_ good."

Abe stares back at him, eyes wide, then turns on his heel, muttering, "Yeah," and hurrying out of the shop.

It's several minutes later when he realises Abe's made off with his towel. _Oh well. Not like I don't know where to find him._ Sakaeguchi smiles as he busies himself (unnecessarily) dusting the light fixtures.

* * *

 

The next day is sunny, so he thinks it’s fair to assume Abe will have had a chance to wash and dry the towel by the next morning. The fresh collection of posies is just a nice gesture, perhaps a thank you for the latte and the honey, an excuse for having come in, in case Abe isn’t here or hasn’t got his towel.

But he needn’t have worried. When he comes in, Abe pops up from behind the case full of pastries and sandwiches. “Ah, Sakaeguchi! Gimme a minute...” He slides a tray of something that looks lemony and delicious into place, then stands, stripping off gloves, and beckoning Sakaeguchi to follow. “You want a latte? Ishida, make him a latte.” Today, it’s a short, cute, fat girl with an artfully curled bob and a cheery smile. Sakaeguchi smiles at her as he passes, having to come awfully close to jogging to catch up with Abe, who has already disappeared around a corner.

He follows him, past the doors to a small kitchen and a bathroom, finally arriving in a neat office, cubbies with names on them on one wall and a well-organised desk on the other next to a window with an unassuming view of the back of another building. Utilitarian and unadorned, but still cozy; the intimacy of a shared workspace. Sakaeguchi feels suddenly sorry he doesn’t have coworkers.

Abe steps over to a messenger bag on the floor under the desk. “Your towel...” He fishes it out, holding it out to Sakaeguchi. “Sorry for making off with it. I washed it.” Sakaeguchi accepts it, then holds out the handful of flowers.

“For you. Ah, for the...!” Sakaeguchi takes a deep breath. _Why the hell am I getting all flustered over getting my own towel back?_ “For your _café_. As a thank you for the latte.”

Abe stares down at the collection of little white and pink buds, then takes them, fingertips brushing over Sakaeguchi’s palm, glancing contact that leaves him snatching his hand back and shoving it into his pocket. “Thanks...” Abe frowns down at them for a moment, then looks up at Sakaeguchi. “I still don’t have any vases, though. I just put them in mugs, last time.”

“Oh. Well, vases aren’t needed, really! Flowers are perfectly happy in mugs.” Sakaeguchi grins at him.

Abe huffs out a laugh. “You talk like they have feelings.”

“They _do_.” Sakaeguchi pulls his hand out of his pocket, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That so?” Abe gives him an indulgent look that makes Sakaeguchi want to kick him. “I suppose you’d know better than me.”

“Yeah, I _would_.” He narrows his eyes, giving Abe a grin that’s more about challenge than amusement. Abe looks...oddly intrigued.

A voice calls back to them that Sakaeguchi’s drink is ready, and Sakaeguchi turns, taking half a step out the door before pausing, turning back. Only to find Abe stopping short just behind him, one hand coming up to rest on the doorframe. Sakaeguchi looks up at him, abruptly very aware of how damn _large_ he is, especially up close like this.

“How were you gonna pay for that, by the way?”

Sakaeguchi’s eyebrow twitches, and he wants to yell _don’t SAY it like that! Sounds like we’re in a cheesy porno!_ But instead, he just stares back at Abe’s face, so very close, and yet he’d _definitely_ have to come up on his toes to—

“Because these,” Abe shakes the bouquets at him, “are for yesterday’s. So.” He watches Sakaeguchi, seems to be considering. “You could bring in some more, tomorrow.”

Sakaeguchi suddenly has trouble thinking of any response that doesn’t start with ‘and YOU could shove me up against that wall and fuck me senseless’. He shakes himself, then asks, knowing his smile is a little fixed and he’s blushing, and trying not to care, “What if I want coffee tomorrow?”

“Then bring me flowers the day after, too.”

“Ex-cuse me!” Izumi’s voice rings out, aggressively cheery. “Would like to put down my heavy school bag, _thanks!_ ”

Sakaeguchi whirls faster than necessary, darting past Izumi and off to collect his drink, almost leaving without adding honey to it.

The bottle _is_ sticky, but he still thinks it’s worth it.

When he pushes through the door to his shop, he doesn’t stop moving, continuing into the back room and sinking down with his back to the wall. After a moment, he sets the latte on the floor and hauls the towel over his head. _God DAMN, WHY? WHY SO MANY ATTRACTIVE MEN?_ He’s even been seeing that hot tall guy from the bookstore around an awful lot, lately...

The towel smells unfamiliar. Good, but different, he supposes like Abe’s laundry soap. And then he’s just thinking about the shirt he was wearing, looser than the other ones he’s seen on him, and somehow just making him look casual and snuggly and he probably smelled like this towel does and Sakaeguchi tears it off his head, throwing it across the room, drawing his knees up and pillowing his head on his arms.

_I’m so screwed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apple Blossom: good fortune. Also selected because as a spring flower, it is evocative of new beginnings, and I am a cheeseball. uwu
> 
> This story owes a lot to many others. I don't think I could have made it through without the support of my twitfam, and the nascence of the story itself was in a conversation I had with Bridges about side-pairings to KnifeofIce's Suyanai bookshop AU (PLEASE go read it; it is Top Notch Grade A Romantic Nerds: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1292764 http://archiveofourown.org/works/1510046 as well as her take on the Sakabe relationship: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2847095 Also there is a GIANT THING a bunch of people collaborated on for L's birthday last year but I am a Bad Friend and am too lazy to dig it up;;;;;) But yeah, thanks to Phix and Nhu and Sam and everyone who helped support me through this. u3u
> 
> A further note: don't let the E rating get your hopes up; when I say "slow burn" I mean it, and I'm Sorry but someone dared me.
> 
> Also another one: dissociation is not a big focus of this fic, but it is a part of what one of the characters is dealing with, and I don't want to surprise people with it. I will put a note on chapters that involve it. And with respect to how I've written it... When I'm writing it, I'm drawing on my own experiences of it as well as things I have read and gathered from others; I'm not trying to present this as a 100% ACCURATE AND UNIVERSAL description of how it feels, just this is as close as I can get to describing what happens for me as well as incorporating what I understand of stuff outside my experience.


	2. Sweet William and Amaryllis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ya hankerin for some HOT NEW(ish) ZETSU-CONTENT and don't already follow me on tumblr, I wrote a couple things for the oofurishipweeks and also the beginning of a random one-off Sakabemiha short, and ALSO also a lil trans!Tajima one-shot inspired by a piece of art my friend drew, all of which can be found hereabouts: http://zetsubooty.tumblr.com/tagged/kikuningyou

Increased business and a good dose of stubborn embarrassment keeps Sakaeguchi in his shop the next day and even the day after that. He’s tempted to go by the café after work, but he’s pretty sure Abe has usually gone home by then. _Not that it matters. Not that seeing that weird, grouchy lump is in ANY way a motivation for me going there._ Sakaeguchi locks up, fogging the glass of the door with his exasperated sigh.

He’s not sure where the good taste of discussing one crush with another one lies (not that Abe _is_ a crush), but he can’t help the irritated babble that comes out of him when he runs into Suyama at the station. “You ever find someone _supremely_ attractive, but feel kind of…mad at yourself for even thinking it?” _Supremely??? What the heck??_

Suyama gives him a startled glance, then chuckles. “Can’t say I have, exactly, but I think I understand.” He stares off across the tracks with a rueful smile. “Sometimes, we seem drawn to things that bring us the most trouble.”

Sakaeguchi looks over at him, pressing his lips together, then bursts out laughing, slapping Suyama on the back. “What are you, an old man? So corny!”

“Eh??”

Sakaeguchi claps his hands together. “You’re right, though. I shouldn’t be surprised: opposites attract, and all that. But that sort of thing burns out pretty fast, so,” he breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief, “I’m safe!” _Not from YOU and your damn sweet smile._

Then again, he’s ninety percent sure Suyama’s dating someone, now. _He’s just been a little...floaty, lately_. Sakaeguchi is simultaneously grateful to, and deeply resentful of, the lucky person. He’s somehow resisted prying up until now, but, as they step onto the train, since they’re already talking about it... “Soooo, does that mean YOU have someone who’s causing you a bit of pleasant trouble?”

Suyama laughs, grabbing hold of a pole while Sakaeguchi takes a seat. “Well, not exactly, but they can be a little trying, sometimes...” Sakaeguchi feels his heart sink at the confirmation, though he does pick up on the careful avoidance of gendering the mysterious person. _Could he be...after all...? AT LEAST THAT MEANS MAYBE A COMMUNITY!_ “That’s how it goes, though. We don’t get into relationships because they’re easy, I s’pose!”

“I suppose not.” He wants to add, _THIS would be easy_. But then Suyama continues.

“Not like it’s bad, or anything! Just... We’re still getting used to each other, I think, and some gu... Some people have a bit of trouble opening up, getting close. And I get that, you know? So I’m patient, or as patient as I can be.”

Sakaeguchi examines an ad across the aisle, trying to contain his happiness at that little slip of the tongue. “Nah, I get it. Been there, myself. There’s no point in rushing things. Especially...” He smiles up at Suyama. “Some things are worth being patient for.”

Suyama grins back. “Yep! Too true.” He stares out the window briefly with a dreamy expression, then looks down at Sakaeguchi, who’s instantly glad he hadn’t indulged his desire to pull a sulky face. “Perhaps, if you wait a while, you’ll find you’re not as mad about falling for that person after all.”

“I’m _not_ fal...!” Sakaeguchi looks away hurriedly. “I find that doubtful. But. I suppose one can hope.” _Hope? Hope that I get over this quick._

They move on to safer topics until they reach Suyama’s stop and say goodbye. Sakaeguchi spends the rest of his train ride with his face mashed against his bag, cursing hot young men everywhere and their (possibly male?) partners, too.

* * *

The next morning, he gives himself a firm talking-to in the mirror, and resolves to bring flowers in today. He doesn’t like leaving debts unfilled, is all, and he _does_ like the coffee. Maybe, somehow, if he can just have enough unpleasant interactions with Abe, maybe it’ll eventually blunt his appeal. And if he takes a little extra care with his hair, if he chooses to wear the dark grey-blue sweater that someone at some point had said looked nice on him, well, it’s just because it’s cozy, and it’s a bit chilly today. Nothing more.

He goes to work early, intending to drop by the café before he opens up, which turns out to be a mistake. The café is crowded and noisy with people trying, just like him, to grab a quick coffee before work. Sakaeguchi gets in line anyway, holding his precious cargo close to his chest to shield it in case of jostling.

He’s just about decided that it’s not worth the wait and the aggravation of the press and roar of people when a hand closes on his upper arm. He looks over, already feeling himself flush, finding Abe smiling at him, wryly sympathetic. He lets him tug him away, around the corner of the bar, to the area where there’s another opening into the kitchen and it’s a little quieter.

“You came.” Sakaeguchi feels his heart leap at the warmth in the words. “Shit timing.”

He pulls a sour face at Abe. “I’m _awfully_ sorry. I’ll _try_ to be more considerate in future.”

“I’m just thinking of your convenience.” Abe shrugs, then eyes his hand curiously. “What’d you bring?”

Sakaeguchi finds himself looking away, suddenly bashful. Even though Abe’s established this as a transaction, not a gift. He holds out the few pale lilac bell-shaped blooms, ends held carefully in a damp hand towel. “Crocuses.”

“What an ugly name.” Abe holds out his hand, and Sakaeguchi narrows his eyes at him, considering pettily refusing to give them to him after all, but then forces himself to relinquish them. Abe eyes them curiously. “I’ve seen these before. They usually grow in the spring, right? I think my mom has them in her garden...”

“Yeah.” Sakaeguchi drops into shopkeeper mode, which makes things so much easier. “They’re pretty popular with gardeners everywhere. They provide a bit of early colour, and they’re a perennial, which makes things easy! These ones are a special fall-blooming variety.”

“Mm.” Abe eyes the flowers curiously, leaning back against the counter. Suddenly, he fixes Sakaeguchi with a direct look. “You don’t sell these.”

Sakaeguchi takes half a step back, flushing. “No, I... I have a little window box, and...” _WHY AM I ADMITTING THIS? JUST SAY YOU GOT THEM SOMEWHERE ELSE! SAY YOU STOLE THEM, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!_ “They just looked really pretty, and I thought it’d be nice to bring something special,” he winces internally, “and seasonal in…”

Abe looks at him thoughtfully, then glances past the (somewhat thinner) crowd of customers, out the front windows. “Well. I’ll be careful to appreciate them more, then, since they came from your garden.” Sakaeguchi’s beginning to regret that choice; when he’d picked them, it hadn’t seemed like such a grand gesture, but now, it seems somehow more personal, more telling. _Of WHAT??_ He prepares to turn away, make his retreat, opening his mouth to say goodbye, left with it hanging open at Abe’s next words. “What do these mean, anyway?"

“Eh???”

“I was talking to Suyama the other day, and he mentioned that there are meanings for different flowers.” Sakaeguchi has to resist demanding WHY he was talking about flowers with Suyama, and if it had something to do with HIM, and if so, which of them brought him up? Instead, he just nods assent. “So, what about these?”

Sakaeguchi eyes them, recalling. “Crocuses, particularly the yellow ones, symbolise youthful cheerfulness.”

Abe watches him expectantly, then frowns. “That all?”

He shrugs. “What more do you want? Usually, the flowers on their own mean something pretty simple. That’s why you combine them together in a bouquet to convey a more specific meaning.”

“Oh.” Sakaeguchi hovers awkwardly, wondering whether Abe’s curiousity has been satisfied. He thinks probably it has when Abe turns to pull down a clean mug, filling it with water. “So, did the other bouquets mean something?” _Apparently not._

Sakaeguchi sighs. “No, they were just... I just brought stuff that would look nice as small arrangements. Using that kind of communication method presumes that the other person would know how to interpret the message. There’s no point in writing a letter to someone who can’t read.”

“Mm, s’pose so...” Abe turns back to him with a grin. “Then you’ll just have to teach me!”

Sakaeguchi falls back a step, startled. “Wha— Why on earth would I do THAT?”

“So that...” Abe avoids Sakaeguchi’s eyes as he unwraps the flowers and sets them in the mug; he feels a little bit bad. _Still, WHAT THE HECK??_ “Well, I guess you’re right. There’s no good reason.” Sakaeguchi frowns at Abe as he turns, clearing a space on a shelf and setting the mug of flowers on it.

_Does he WANT me sending him secret messages via flowers? Is he FIVE?_

He tries to return to a more neutral expression when Abe glances over his shoulder at him. “I’m just putting them here for now. Until it quiets down.”

Sakaeguchi smiles tensely, waving him off. “That’s okay! I wasn’t expecting anything!” They stare at each other for an awkwardly long stretch, and then Sakaeguchi takes a deep breath and begins to turn away, starting, “Well, if that’s all, then—”

“But don’t you want a latte?”

“Eh??” _He really wants to keep doing this?_ “I...sure?” He glances over towards the cash, and Izumi still going full speed at the espresso machine. “But it’s still busy...”

“That’s okay, I’ll make it.”

“EH???” He’s trying to think of a more coherent protest when Abe strides over to the espresso machine, elbowing his way into Izumi’s space, leaving him scowling at him but shifting to make room. Sakaeguchi watches, suddenly curious, as Abe grabs a cup without looking and takes hold of one of the espresso filters, whacking it (with what Sakaeguchi feels is rather unnecessary viciousness) on a bar set over a hole in the counter. He flicks something on the grinder, then tamps the grounds down with a single elegant twist of his wrist.

Sakaeguchi reflects on the fact that he’s never really seen Abe _doing_ anything before (beyond unfortunate attempts to interact with other humans), and feels like that’s kind of a shame. There’s a confident, angular grace to his movements, and, as much as Izumi might be grumbling about him getting in the way under his breath, the two of them move around each other as though they weren’t there. It’s mesmerising. Almost as dazing as the smile Abe levels at him as he sets the cup on the bar. Sakaeguchi looks down at the latte to avoid meeting his eyes, feeling his mouth curve into an answering smile, cheeks warm. He thinks he catches Izumi rolling his eyes in his peripheral vision.

He frowns suddenly, and without thinking, says, “Oh, no art?”

Abe’s scowling back at him when he looks up. “You’re just going to muck it up, so why would I waste the effort of doing a design on top?” Sakaeguchi would _like_ to say his expression hasn’t become sulky in response, but he’s pretty sure it would be a lie.

Izumi wrestles the milk jug out of Abe’s hand. “He just doesn’t want to ‘cause he’s crap at them, and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of h—”

“I can do them!” Izumi just gives him a bland stare; Abe narrows his eyes at him, but then turns back to Sakaeguchi. “Okay. So I’m not great at it. But it’s not like it matters.” He eyes Sakaeguchi, who is now suppressing a smile. “Unless you’re about to tell me some crap like ‘it makes it taste better’ or something?” He squints at him, leaning over the bar a little, gesturing threateningly with a pitcher of mil. “If you tell me my lattes have feelings, I’m dumping this on you.”

Sakaeguchi laughs, then waves his hands in a placating gesture. “I won’t!” He can’t resist smiling impishly at Abe and adding, “I _do_ think it makes it taste better, though!” Abe makes a disgusted noise, pushing away from the bar and starting to turn. “But it’s the sentiment, more than the perfection of the design, that makes it good. So. I wouldn’t mind if you practiced your skills on me…” It doesn’t occur to him until after he’s said it how stupid that sounds. And... _Oh my god, am I FLIRTING with him??_ Sakaeguchi finds himself debating the social awkwardness of crouching down and pulling his sweater over his head, eventually deciding against it.

Abe turns back to him, looking startled for a moment before his face goes carefully neutral. “Good, then. I will.” He nods definitively, finally letting Izumi elbow him out of the bar area.

“Well, ah… Thanks!” Sakaeguchi raises the latte, inclining his head, getting a slight nod in response.

* * *

 

He’s embarrassed enough by the whole ordeal that he waits another couple days before going back, and when he finally does (later in the day, and wearing his _second_ favourite sweater, the one with horizontal gold and russet stripes of varying thickness that he feels makes him look a little less weedy and small) (not that he cares) (definitely not that he hopes _Abe_ cares), he doesn’t see the crocuses anywhere. Not that he’s looking for them. He assumes they were casualties of a small child or some such, but figures it’s not worth asking about. That would be counterproductive to making it seem like Not A Huge Deal. Instead, he just fixes a friendly smile on his face as he hands Abe the alstroemeria blooms, waiting until he asks before explaining that they’re for good fortune and friendship. Abe looks down at them in his hand, lids drooping low over his eyes in an expression Sakaeguchi can’t quite interpret. But then he says, “Oh, cool,” and gives Sakaeguchi a stiff smile, then turns and fetches down...some simple glass vases.

“Oh! You got some.”

Abe doesn’t turn, just fills the vases with water. “Yeah, I stopped by a shop on my way home the other day. I figured, if this was going to be a regular thing, then I might as well. 'Course, then you didn't come in.” His tone is perfectly conversational. He finally turns back to Sakaeguchi, holding two vases with a few blooms in each. They’re small, with a basic bulb shape and a scalloped edge, one a pale green and the other a pale orange. There’s a yellow and a blue one on the shelf, still. They look like the sort of thing a twelve-year-old girl would pick out at a 100-yen store and think looked grown-up, in all honesty, and they don’t suit the modern decor of the café at ALL.

To cover his flusteredness, he reaches out to lightly touch one of the blooms. “They’ll last longer if you cut them before you put them in the vases.”

“Oh? Oh, I’ve seen Mom do that... Under running water, right?” Abe’s already turning, setting the vases down and reaching for the tap.

“Ah, no! Not necessary. You just need to put them in water as soon as possible afterward. And you want to cut them at an angle, with something very sharp. I could...” He hesitates because he feels he should, not because he has any uncertainty. “I probably have a spare pair of shears I could bring you.”

“That so?” Abe disappears into the kitchen, coming back with a clean cutting board and a knife. “This do for now?”

“It should be fine.” Sakaeguchi nods, then, after a second of real hesitation, steps behind the counter to watch as Abe takes the flowers out of one vase. “Aim for a forty-five degree angle, and try not to crush the stems.” Abe makes a noise of assent, turning the flowers on the cutting board.

It’s only the difference of a meter or so, but there’s an electrifying feeling of _intrusion_ , coming behind the counter like this. He’s felt it with some rude customers in his own shop, and felt the little thrill when Suyama had casually beckoned him around to show him the vintage atlas he was unpacking from a small shipment. And maybe it’s also exciting because it's the first time he’s _chosen_ to stand this close to Abe. He has a sudden overwhelming impulse to lean on him, to rest his head on his shoulder, maybe slip his arm around his waist. _Would Abe be the PDA type? Probably the sort to get all pointlessly grumpy about it…_

It hits him that the vases match his display pails.

_It CAN’T be on purpose. Probably unconscious._

He wants to slap his own cheeks, but instead, he just turns away, flopping back against the counter a bit more heavily than necessary. His elbow bumps a basin full of soaking mugs, and he feels water splash on his sleeves and the small of his back. _I deserve that,_ he thinks glumly.

“This right?”

“Yeah, those are perfect!” If his voice is a little painfully cheery…

“Hm. So, you can recut them?”

“Yep! If they’re just a little wilted, they’ll at least pick up the water better that way, and they'll revive if they're not too far gone.”

“Good to know.” Abe nods at him, then frowns, tilting his head. “Did you get that water on you?”

“Eh? I guess... Is that a—”

“That water has bleach in it.”

“Aww, damn, I LIKE this swea—” He cuts off with a startled squawk as Abe grabs the fabric around his waist, hauling it up, just seeming to assume that he’ll raise his arms. He pulls it off fast enough that Sakaeguchi barely has a chance to enjoy the feeling of his fingers brushing up his sides and over his arms, but it still leaves him blushing brilliantly, hair mussed in what he hopes is an appealing and not just stupid fashion. Abe turns on the tap, giving the sink a cursory rinse before holding the sweater under the water.

“I shoulda warned you...”

“No, it’s quite alright! I’m the klutz who knocked into it, after all!” He gives Abe an embarrassed smile, realising he must look like an absolute idiot right now.

“It’s not on your shirt, is it?” Sakaeguchi cranes his neck over his shoulder, patting the back of his undershirt, then shakes his head at Abe. “Or your skin? Good thing this fabric’s pretty thick...”

“Yeah...”

Abe holds up the soggy sweater, surveying it. “Hopefully, it’ll be okay, since it was dilute and we caught it quickly. Oh, you got something else to wear? You gonna be okay?”

“Ah...” He doesn’t, but a little autumn chill won’t kill him, and he doesn’t want Abe to feel bad about his own mistake. Especially given what he'd been thinking about. “I’m all right without! The shop’s pretty cozy, so...”

Abe frowns at him, wringing out the sweater. “But you’ll have to get home.”

With an embarrassed laugh, Sakaeguchi waves him off. “Don’t worry about me! A little cold won’t kill me. And it’s my own just desserts for being clumsy.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

Sakaeguchi pulls a sour face. “You weren’t supposed to _agree…_ ”

Seeming to ignore him, Abe continues, “Come with me, anyway,” then gives the sweater one last squeeze before stepping past him into the kitchen/storage room, obviously assuming he’ll follow. They pass through into the back hallway and around to the office, but Abe pauses for a second at the door, then turns to him with a perfunctory, “Gimme a sec,” and then slips through the door, leaving Sakaeguchi standing there perplexed. At least he doesn’t have long to wait before Abe sidles back out, proffering a jacket.

“Oh, I can’t...” Sakaeguchi holds up his hands, only to have the jacket shoved against them.

“I live close by. I don’t need it.” Abe sets his jaw stubbornly, pushing the jacket on him again. Sakaeguchi does his best not to wonder where, exactly, Abe lives.

“But...!” Abe glares at him, lifting the jacket and dropping it on top of him.

“Just accept it, okay?!” Sakaeguchi jumps when Abe’s hand comes down on his head. By his voice, he’s already walking back up the hall. “Now come back up front and get your latte.” Sakaeguchi pulls the jacket down, turning to watch him for a second before jogging after him with a last curious glance back at the door to the office.

* * *

 

Sakaeguchi’s always been bad at minding his own business. Perhaps it comes from being a middle child, and always playing peacekeeper/confidante/sometime-spy. He’s managed to learn to control himself over the years, but he still has a lot of trouble resisting the mystery of a pointedly unfinished sentence or an accidentally-left-open notebook. Or a closed door.

Still, he tries to put it out of his mind. Perhaps it was just messy, or something. _And it’s REALLY none of my business. I DON’T care about Abe-the-unpleasant-café-proprietor and his stupid mystery embarrassing office._ He tells himself that firmly, even as he somehow forgets to take Abe’s jacket off when he gets back to the shop. _I mean, I was just being polite, it’s actually kind of chilly with the fridges..._

It’s a very cozy jacket, especially since it’s several sizes too big for him, hanging down nearly to the top of his thighs when he’s pretty sure it’s supposed to hit mid-hip, and the sleeves coming down well past the joint of his thumbs. A dark-grey bomber jacket with epaulettes and breast pockets that he waits an entire hour before he strips it off and investigates. There is, unfortunately, nothing of interest in them, just some lint, a candy wrapper, and a faded grocery store receipt. _Maybe he was just emptying the pockets, and didn’t want it to look like he was suspicious of me...?_ He admires it, deciding that it probably would look quite stylish on Abe, who he assumes actually fits it properly.

He shrugs back into it, sighing, and leaning back against the wall. “I’m completely hopeless,” he informs the African violet on the counter. “I’m acting like a teenager, here.” The violet doesn’t have any opinion to offer on the matter, so he’s left alone to snuggle down in the jacket and do his best to persuade himself that Operation Stop Finding Abe Attractive is going perfectly.

Of course, he runs into Suyama on the train home, who laughs at him in the oversized jacket.

“What is this? You look like a kid in his dad’s clothes!”

“Wow, _thanks_.” Sakaeguchi presses his lips together sourly. “It’s not like it’s by choice! I had an accident involving my sweater and some bleach...”

“Bleach, huh...?” Suyama frowns at the jacket, grabbing one of the lapels, making Sakaeguchi’s pulse leap. “This looks fami... This is Abe’s, isn’t it?”

Sakaeguchi feels himself flush, and stares at the floor, feeling like he’s been caught out. “...Yeah, it is. My “incident” happened at the café.”

“Oh my! So Abe lent you his jacket? How chivalrous! See, told you he was nice!”

Sakaeguchi scowls at nothing in particular. “He _dropped_ it on my _head_.” Suyama looks at his face for a moment, then leans on the pole he’s hanging onto, laughing.

Once he’s recovered, he side-eyes Sakaeguchi. “There are flowers at the café now.”

“Yeah.” He purses his lips, wishing Suyama would stop looking at him expectantly. “We’ve been exchanging flowers for lattes.” _Oh god, when I actually say that out LOUD..._

Suyama chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “You don’t seem very happy about it, though...?” Sakaeguchi doesn’t respond, so he continues, “Still, I’m glad to know you’re making friends around here.”

Sakaeguchi sighs heavily, then smiles at him, intent on changing the subject. “Yeah, me too. Oh! Did I tell you about the woman from that engineering firm? She was on about her niece again, today! I swear, she comes in just to talk! And—”

“Well, who WOULDN’T want to come talk to the new dashing young florist?”

Suyama says it with a pleasant laugh, and it’s a punch in the gut, because those aren’t the words of someone who’s trying to hide a crush on him. If he’d harboured any illusions still, they’re smashed on the floor of a train car as he forces himself to smile back at Suyama while wearing another man’s jacket.

“Don’t say that! Ah, it’s...!” He covers his face, his bright red blush, because regardless of what it might mean, Suyama still just referred to him as ‘dashing’. “You can’t say a guy who can’t reach the top shelves without a step-stool is dashing!”

“What? Should I call you cute, then?” Suyama grabs the back of the jacket, flapping it. “You DO look like a little kid in this!”

Sakaeguchi laughs more easily, wriggling away and swatting at Suyama’s hand; a few people in the car give them dirty looks. “You said that already! How about you don’t try to ‘compliment’ me anymore?”

“Okay, okay!” Suyama raises his hands placatingly. “I’m done, I promise!” They laugh together as the train pulls into a station, and though it’s earlier than Suyama usually gets off, he moves towards the door. “Sorry, getting off here today! See ya later.”

“See you!” Sakaeguchi waves with what feels like a convincing smile, then snags a vacated seat next to the door well, finally letting himself sink into the sulk he’s been skirting around for the entire ride.

For a few minutes, at least. Then he takes a deep breath, setting his face in a determined expression. _I’ll just go home and say hello to all the plants again and have something nice for dinner, and then a bath, and maybe watch a film... Maybe I’ll even stop at a bakery on the way home, and get something sweet! Oh, but will anything be open still...?_ He slouches into the corner, thinking about pastries, pulling the jacket a bit closer around himself, and finds his eyelids drooping. His last thought as he drifts off to sleep is _I wonder if the pastries at Abe’s are any good...?_

* * *

 

He almost forgets the jacket in the morning, almost leaves it where he cast it down on one end of the couch when he came in (and then had given it _absolutely_ no thought for the rest of the evening). He’s already halfway down the hall, and considers just leaving it, because really, what's another night with it here, but scurries back in at the last minute for it and then dashes off to catch the earlier train.

Last week, he missed the garbage day. He’s a little ticked off at coming in early for _this_ as he hauls it around into the back alley, consoling himself with the promise of going and getting a hot drink if it’s still early enough. Which is when it occurs to him that just down the alley from the dumpster is the café...and the back window.

Sakaeguchi stands for a long time looking down the alley, hands balled into fists in the pockets of his peacoat (which DOES fit him quite nicely, and does not at ALL make him look like a child, cute or not). Then, feeling like a complete idiot, he walks towards the café, angling closer to the wall as he nears it. Unfortunately, when he gets close, he realises the window is set far too high for him to see much of the room, although he can see enough to tell that Abe appears to be in there, probably doing paperwork. Sakaeguchi flattens himself against the wall, eyes wide. _Oh my god, what the hell am I even DOING??_

Something’s pulling at his attention, and he manages to draw his eyes away from Abe’s nape for a moment to process the splash of colour on the windowsill. There, set in another of the small coloured vases, are the crocuses.

_Oh..._

_Wait, WHAT??_

He comes out from the wall a little to peer at them, making sure. Unless Abe for SOME reason obtained some identical flowers, those are the ones he brought. One of them is slightly wilted.

 _WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEEEEAAAAAAAN??? WHY WOULD HE PUT THEM THERE?_ Sakaeguchi finds himself almost running back around the corner and through the door to his shop, flinging himself back against it as soon as it’s closed.

_He probably just took them back there while he was doing something else, and then forgot them. Or maybe one of his employees got tired of that drab little room, and thought they’d liven it up a little... Oh, maybe I could bring him something living today, and—WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING??? Oh, I should at least mention they shouldn’t be in the window lik—NO, NO I SHOULD NOT MENTION THAT I WAS PEEKING IN HIS BACK WINDOW._

Slowly, he sinks down to the floor, hands clenched in his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet William: gallantry. Amaryllis: timidity, pride.
> 
> These chapters seem to be ending very similarly...poor Sakaeguchi... *paffs* Wash your hands after you take out garbage!!
> 
> Apparently, I hc Suyama as using really lame words like 'handsome' and 'dashing'. The fuck era are you from, dude???


	3. Marjoram & Adonis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick WARNING for (pretty vague) dissociation elements in this chapter, whoo~~
> 
> also if ur wantin some new Sakabs, I posted a lil taste of something I'm working on here: http://zetsubooty.tumblr.com/post/129824883959/no-title-as-yet-but-probably-some-shitty-pun  
> Although Sakaeguchi has yet to make an appearance...come on, lazy-bones...

“I really don’t see what your problem is. You have perfectly steady hands, and it’s not like you lack fine motor skills.” Izumi smirks. “I’ve even seen you write.” Abe shoots him a glare, and then appears to try and kick him. “Oi! Ah, see, you’re screwing it up worse, now!”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion,” Abe snaps.

Sakaeguchi laughs, curling over with his arm on the bar, then grabs the edge, peeking at Abe’s handiwork. It looks...

“It looks like a drunk spider made it!”

“THANK you, Sakaeguchi. I feel SO MUCH better now.” Abe gives him a glum look, then scowls down at the latte. "It _is_ pretty terrible, huh."

"I told you, I don't mind! You're trying your best."

"His best is pretty abysmal. I hope you're not bringing in your good flowers, Sakaeguchi-san."

Sakaeguchi smiles brightly. "I'm hoping they'll be inspirational!"

Izumi laughs, leaning on Abe’s shoulder and peering down at the latte. "You're a...very optimistic person."

Abe glares at him, swatting him and then handing Sakaeguchi the drink. "Well, at least I can't possibly get worse."

"Aww, don't sell yourself short! I'm sure you could manage!" Izumi replies cheerily.

"Is it time for my weekly threat to fire you?"

"Nah, gotta wait at least two more days."

Sakaeguchi laughs as he sweetens his drink, glancing over his shoulder at them as he reaches for a lid. Abe smacks Izumi on the back of the head, but turns it into an affectionate hair ruffle, leaving him pulling a face and patting his hair back into place. Sakaeguchi wonders, as he has a few times now, what on earth their relationship is.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Abe’s fixing him with a level gaze, which breaks into a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry if my 'art' made it taste more ‘drunken spider’ than delicious...”

“Ah, I haven’t even...!” At least taking a drink allows him to cover his face for a moment. “Oh, shoot, I forgot to stir...” He turns, fumbling for a stick.

“See, I still don’t see the point when you’re just gonna wreck it and put a lid on it, anyway.” Even without seeing, he can just tell by his tone of voice that Abe’s got his arms crossed.

“You could always put the honey in first." Izumi sets the espresso grinder running. " _Or_ just stop being such a crabby bastard.”

“It’s my charm point.” The authoritative way Abe says it, it’s not entirely certain whether it’s meant as a joke, but regardless, Sakaeguchi laughs.

“Ah, I get it, Izumi, he’s trying to seduce us.” _Oh my GOD, WHY DID I JUST SAY THAT???_

Abe laughs too, though there's something a little bit forced to the sound. Sakaeguchi avoids looking at him, afraid to see his expression. _I really need to stop SAYING crap like that. Probably starting to freak him out..._

Izumi’s head jerks back, and he wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, don’t _say_ that! He’s like a second big brother!” _Oh_. Sakaeguchi has to fight to keep back the relieved sigh, leaning against the counter as Izumi shoos Abe away with a bar rag. “Go! Go be ‘charming’ somewhere else!”

Sakaeguchi decides to flee himself before he comes out with anything even MORE flirtatious, especially since Abe’s coming around to this side of the counter. With a friendly goodbye, he steps quickly over to the door and pushes out into the November chill.

Before he’s gotten more than a few paces away, though, the door opens again behind him.

“I was thinking...what about some boxes?”

“What?” He swings around, shooting Abe a confused look.

Izumi yells about letting in cold air, so Abe pushes away from the doorframe where he was leaning and shuts the door behind himself; Sakaeguchi finds himself rooted to the spot as he comes closer. “Boxes. Planters, I guess. For flowers, here.”

“I don’t... Sure, that sounds like a great idea?” _The hell does it have to do with me??_

Abe frowns at him, seeming to realise he’s not quite getting through. “I thought perhaps you could tell me what plants would be good for them, stuff like that. I could get them from you, if you carry them.”

 _Oh_.

His consternation must be showing on his face, because Abe takes a step back, stuffing his hands in his pockets and angling his body away. “I mean, I guess that’s not a thing people do for free, usually. If it’s an inconvenience, then--”

“No!” He takes a matching step forward, and, every part of him screaming _NO! STOP THAT AT ONCE,_ takes hold of Abe’s arm. “I’d be _happy_ to.” Somehow, until his hand actually closed around it, he’d kind of forgotten that Abe was only wearing a t-shirt, and the feel of his bare skin, even something so impersonal as a forearm, leaves him suddenly breathless. _I could pull you over RIGHT NOW, pull you close to me and drop this stupid latte and slide my fingers behind your head and tug you down and KISS you. And you look so startled right now like you wouldn’t even stop me._

His grip tightens for a second, and then he makes himself release him, shoving his hand into his own pocket, because there’s something a little bit like fear in Abe’s eyes, and it’s like a knife through him. He wants to tell him _I’m not that kind of guy, I’m TRYING NOT to come on to you here. Though it would really help if you would stop doing stuff like THIS_ , but all that comes out is, “It’s really no bother to give you a little advice.”

“Good,” Abe says with a nod, still facing away. “Do they need to be constructed special, or anything?”

“You’re making them yourself, then? Neat!” Abe colours. _Push away._ “It's...not really my area of expertise, but you should be able to find designs online...”

“Oh.” Abe sounds surprisingly disappointed.

 _He…wanted me to help?_ “I could check them, when they're done...?”

“Sure!” Sakaeguchi can’t help laughing a little at Abe’s overenthusiastic response. _He probably just doesn’t have many friends..._ “I’ll let you know when they’re ready.”

“Please do!” He smiles broadly, then turns, escaping before Abe can answer.

* * *

 

Wakako visits him late in November, bringing with her unseasonably warm weather, his favourite sugar cookies, and news of Yukihiro’s last year of university. She also comes with prying of her own to do, because she's always kept a watchful eye on her two younger brothers and isn’t about to stop just because they're jerks who’ve wandered off and abandoned her, as she informs him. He tells her about new foods he’s cooked and a couple bands he went to see and maybe playing baseball in the spring and the nice guy who runs the bookstore and she immediately sees right through him and asks if said ‘nice guy’ is hot, and he sighs and droops over the side of the table and laughs out his admission of guilt. Wakako pats his head and asks him what he’s going to do about it.

“Nothing. He’s seeing someone already, and he looks so happy, and it’s...” He makes a helpless gesture.

She takes a sip of her tea, raising an eyebrow at him. “So you just give up? Think about your OWN happiness for once, Yuuto!”

“I AM! I wouldn’t be happy if I broke them up!”

Wakako slumps back in her chair, arms folded. “So what, just wait for them to break up, see if you can get sloppy seconds? You weenie.”

Sakaeguchi draws back with an irritated expression. “Am _not_. And no,” he sighs, sticking his nose in the air, “if you MUST ask, I’m giving up on him. Trying to be _virtuous_ , not a weenie, _thanks_.”

“Looks the same to me.”

He sticks his tongue out and chucks a cookie at her.

* * *

 

She comes with him to the shop in the morning, making appropriately impressed noises at its small-but-tidiness and the cheesy (and perhaps overly optimistic) snowflake decorations in the window, smiling at him fondly while he says hello, and occupying the new chair he’s bought while he bustles about with opening.

“You really oughta get someone to help.”

“Yeah, but...”

“You really. Ought. To—”

“Okay, OKAY! I GET it!” He laughs and hands her some phlox. “Take these to the café for me. Tell them they’re from me, and they’ll give you a latte, and here,” He fishes out his wallet and gives her a note, “grab a drink for yourself and some breakfast for us?” _I’m only sending her alone because it’s convenient. Nothing to do with not wanting her to see me interact with Abe. Nothing at all._

Because he doesn't need Wakako raising an eyebrow at him to tell him how horrifyingly obvious he is, much as he still wants to deny it to himself sometimes. Basic attraction was one thing, but this... Flirtation indicates _intent,_ at least on some level, indicates not just a desire to appreciate from afar, but a desire to touch, to linger, to break through, to shove his way into that giant jerk's space and--

Sakaeguchi stomps into the back and grabs his watering can and spray bottle.

For precisely that reason, he's avoided breaching the border of Behind The Counter, convinced that interposing that narrow strip of mottled tan will somehow keep him safe. And it does, to a degree, but it does dick all to save him from perpetrating the eye contact held a little too long, the lids fluttering low over sidelong glances, the posturing and preening that would embarrass a highschooler. Not from the idiot things that come out of his mouth, the references to Abe's body, the subtle digs for information on his dating status or past (all of which meet with either stony-faced silence or firm evasion) (which, of course, only makes him MORE curious). The way he smiles at Abe sometimes...he _knows_ that smile, knows from the feel of it just what it looks like, he's seen it on himself in pictures from happy times with people who he cared for deeply at the time and does still, even if he's no longerin love.

And he can tell, from the spooked look Abe gives him, from the way he shuts down, stays as carefully on his side of that business no-man's-land, that he _knows_ something's up between them, even if he hasn't yet put it together with words like 'flirt' and 'crush'. Sakaeguchi's left kicking himself for not being able to contain himself, for so obviously making Abe uncomfortable, for not being able to pull off a goddamn _normal_ ,  _casual_ business friendship like he ought to. And yet, however resolved his heart when he walk through those doors, he pulls all the same crap.

There’s a reason he’s avoided bringing Abe any of the many, many flowers that mean love.

Because he knows from past experience, from bringing flowers to other men and a few women, knows the way he’ll blush as he explains their meaning, knows the way he’ll touch his hands to his cheeks, his lips, the back of his neck, and knows the way, worse than stammering, he’ll _talk_. Confess all kinds of idiot feelings he's not even sure he has yet, babble out the thoughts and images that intrude on him when he’s sweeping the shop or making himself dinner. When he’s lying back in the bath and wonders what it would be like to feel that broad chest behind him or if Abe’s even the type to like taking baths together in the first place and if he WAS, then would he let Sakaeguchi wash him or would he be shy? Or would he prefer to wash _him?_ And then would they just lie there together and talk and half-fall asleep? Or would there be making out and laughing and slipping around in his lap and kissing more and pushing Abe up to sit on the (conveniently generous) back lip of the bathtub so he can kneel with the warm water lapping against his chest with his movements and watch Abe with his head thrown back against the wall and _Yuuto_ on his lips and Abe smeared across his own.

He realises he’s been standing there for several minutes staring at a fat cactus with his apron clenched in his hands. Hurriedly, he puts it on, hoping Wakako will return shortly and save him from his own filthy thoughts.

A splash of cold water on his cheeks and some dedicated thinking about bromeliads later, Wakako shoulders her way through the door with a grin and enticing little paper bags. She sticks his latte into one hand before fishing his bill out of her coat pocket and shoves it into the other. Sakaeguchi frowns down at it. “Hey, that was _s’posed_ to be my trea—”

“He didn’t know who I was talking about when I said Yuuto. But as soon as we straightened it out, he wouldn’t accept the money!” She wrinkles her nose as she drops the bags on the counter. “Though he was kind of unpleasant about it...”

Sakaeguchi snorts a laugh. “I’m guessing you met Abe, then. He’s a DELIGHT, isn’t he?”

“That’s not the first word that comes to mind...” She snickers, tearing a slice of some kind of seed loaf in half and handing him a piece. It’s delicious, sweet and not too moist and stout enough to still feel like a proper start to the day. Sakaeguchi wonders where it comes from and if they have a storefront somewhere. “He _was_ pretty foxy, though. That’s the other guy you’ve told me about, right? So... _he’s_ no good?”

“Eh?” He can try to play dumb, but Wakako gives him such a deeply disdainful look that he relents. He still lies through his teeth. “I just...I dunno, he doesn’t do it for me.”

“Huh,” she responds archly, but drops the matter.

They share the rest of the pastries, all of which are delicious. And all the while, in the easy silences and companionable chatter between them is the memory of a woman’s voice, faded and indistinct with time, admonishing them to sit down properly at a table while they eat or they’ll spoil their digestion. The childhood thrill of dinner when their parents were out and the three of them would crowd onto the couch to watch TV while they ate. She’s there always, in the way Wakako pushes up her glasses, in the way Yuuto uses his hands when he talks, in the timbre of Wakako’s voice and the little sketches she does on the back of some mail of his hands as he wraps a bouquet, and of calla lilies and carnations and roses, oceans of the roses that She loved, that Yuuto loves for Her sake and their own, the quote Wakako eventually pens across the top of a page, “C’est le temps que tu as perdu pour ta rose qui fait ta rose si importante,” the words She would say, sometimes with patient humour, sometimes a fast mutter under Her breath, a reminder that no time is truly wasted.

There are reminders of their father, too, though they haven’t had the time to settle into a set of familiar symbols to exchange. Tokens, polite roses with the thorns stripped away but no less meaningful for all that. No, these reminders are briars, a thicket of feelings neither of them want to reach into, questions dying half-formed on Sakaeguchi’s lips, _Are you doing okay? Is it easier to live for yourself these days? Do you truly feel abandoned or was I just imagining the edge to your voice when you said that?_

When Wakako finally leaves to explore the area and then do some shopping, he pins the pictures to the wall behind the counter, shaking off the clinging threads of sadness with a proud smile.

* * *

 

Abe slams the immense soup pot down in its well, making its contents slosh dangerously. He stalks back into the kitchen, scouring it for a ladle. “ANYONE SEEN A GODDAMN LADLE ANYWHERE?”

“Tsugawa put it out there already. Stop yelling.”

Izumi’s voice is soft, carefully level, and he leans against the counter with his hands shoved in his pockets, but there’s nothing casual about him or his pose. More, he has the air of someone ready to fight if necessary. And with the way Abe advances on him, he could be forgiven for thinking he needed to, but Izumi doesn’t so much as flinch, even when Abe grabs the hem of his apron, yanking on it.

“The hell is this? You’re not on today. You’ve had the same fucking schedule for _months_ , Izumi, you can’t—”

“Go home, Abe.”

Abe’s head jerks back, then he fixes Izumi with a dangerous look. “Excuse me?”

“I’m here ‘cause Ishida called me. They’re fucking terrified, they don’t know what your problem is.” Izumi stands up, and even if he’s not quite tall enough to be nose-to-nose with Abe, there’s still a self-assuredness to him that gives Abe pause. “I’m here to take over from you. Go home. Have a shower. Eat. Punch a pillow. Fucking wank, if you need to. I don’t give a shit, just whatever you gotta do. Come back when you’re ready to behave yourself.”

“I _am_ beha—” Maybe it’s the look in Izumi’s eyes, maybe it’s just that he’s a lot more self-aware than he was when he was a kid, but Abe decides he shouldn’t finish that sentence, just glares back at Izumi for a long moment before stepping to the side, turning, and leaning back heavily on the counter.

After a beat, he scrubs his hands through his hair with an exasperated noise. “Fuck. You’re right. I’ll go. You’ll apologise to them for me?” He glances over at him; Izumi nods, but makes no move to leave; neither does Abe.

He didn’t notice how hard he was breathing, how fast his pulse was racing, how every muscle of his back and neck were pulled tight, until his body slows, settles, and that feeling of separation from it ebbs away, that feeling that he’s reduced to a single point looking out from behind his eyes fades into a more normal, whole consciousness. His breathing takes on that suspiciously even in-out-out-hold that he fucking _hates_ hearing from himself even more than from others, but Izumi doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t look over at him, just sinks back against the edge of the counter beside him and waits.

Abe considers carefully where the least stupid place to start would be, but eventually gives up and launches in somewhere in the middle. _You've seen me act a worse idiot before; you're not going to judge me any harsher now. Better to be blunt, get this over with already._ "About Sakaeguchi... D'you know if he's dating somebody?"

" _That's_ what...?" Izumi twists a hand in his sleeve, giving him an incredulously irate look. "You goddamn _child_."

Abe holds his gaze, working Izumi's fingers free. "Wow, screw you t--"

Izumi lets go, punching him in the ribs instead. "So what, you finally gonna admit I'm right?"

Abe stares at the whiteboard with its neat inventory list written on it. "Yeah. Okay. I like him. You happy?"

Izumi lifts his hands slowly, grating out an exasperate noise, then drops them to slap against his thighs. "I guess that's something." He exhales a heavy breath, glancing over at Abe. "Not that _I_ know of. But not like he comes in much when you're not here, so you probably know as much as me, maybe more."

 _Does he?_ "Yeah, but..." Abe tips his head down, rubbing at his eyebrows. "I just thought maybe you'd've noticed something I wouldn't."

"What, 'cause you have your head stuck up your damn ass?"

It's Abe's turn to drive a (reasonably gentle) fist into Izumi's side.

"Just ASK him."

“That’d be weird!”

“Because you’re obviously _very_ concerned with seeming normal and reasonable, given what I’ve heard about this morning.”

Abe glowers at a note about letting dishes dry properly, then sighs. “There was a woman, this morning. Brought his flowers. Used his given name. And then, when I—” He realises he’s about to have to admit to something else stupid, but decides that he’s already been shamed enough, might as well keep going. “When I popped outside so I could glance in, see if she was still there, they were sharing food like it was no big deal! They looked...intimate.”

"Intimate. Could you _be_ any more childish?"

"Fuck you, I'm trying to 'open up', here."

"So what?"

Abe looks over at him sharply. "What?"

"So what if he's boning some chick? You just gonna sulk about it? For all you know, she's a harpy and he'd jump at the chance to get on your cranky-ass dick." Abe starts to make an outraged noise, but Izumi continues, crossing his arms. "Look, here's what _normal_ people do. They like someone, they flirt outrageously for a while like you two losers have been, then SOMEONE has the balls to say, 'Hey, I like you, let's date'. And then BAM, it's just makeout city and me standing in the corner making retching sounds but at least no stupid drama and angst."

“...Why are you standing in the corner while we make out in this scenario?” Abe turns to grin at him.

“Shut up! You know what I mean.” Izumi punches his shoulder, but returns Abe’s grin with a relieved smile of his own. “The point is, if you don’t fucking do something about this one way or another, I’M going to do something FOR you.”

Abe blanches, then side-eyes him. “That’s a lot of effort, for you. You’re very invested in—”

“I like him. I like _you_. I wish someone would fucking look after you once in a while, and I wish you’d stop being such a cranky shithead.” Izumi smirks. “I’m pretty sure it’d help if you were getting some, especially from Mr. Sunshine-and-Flowers-Next-Door. Simple as that.”

Abe narrows his eyes. “Oh? You think I’d stop being my lovely, charming self, just from that?”

“Nah, I’m sure you’ll go on being just as unpleasant. But maybe you’ll go be unpleasant at HIM, instead.”

“Wow. _Thanks_.”

“You can count on me!” Izumi gives him a lopsided grin, patting him on the back.

Abe smiles briefly, then frowns thoughtfully. “You really think he flirts with me?”

“OH MY GOD. YES.” Izumi slaps his hand across his face. “You two are DISGUSTING.”

“Suyama says he’s kind of flirty with him, though. So maybe he’s just—”

“He doesn’t flirt with me, and I've never seen him be like that with anyone else. He doesn’t flirt with any of the girls, either. He probably just likes Suyama, too”

“Well. That’s unfortunate for him.”

“Yep, but lucky for you!”

Abe turns to give him a toothy grin. “You saying I’d lose out to him, if he was available?”

“Well, you’ve got him beat in the hair department, but you fall behind in terms of personality... And even the hair thing is debatable...” Abe whacks his arm. “Ow! See?? _Suyama_ wouldn’t hit a poor, defenseless—”

“Oh, come off it.” He swats at Izumi again, who dodges this time, laughing.

After a moment, though, he turns on Abe with a serious frown. “So. Have I reassured your cowardly ass enough that you’re actually gonna _do_ something about this?”

Abe looks at him for a minute, then turns away, rubbing his forehead with a groaning sigh. “It’s too soon.”

“ _What_ the— Too soon? It’s been _years_.” Izumi leers. “Unless there’s someone you haven’t told me about...? Did you ever, with—”

Abe shoots him a glare. “No! Never.” He turns his glare on the floor, kicking at a stray piece of lettuce. “And maybe ‘years’ is too soon for me.” Izumi just rolls his eyes at him. “I just... I need to wait until I’m sure. Until I’m sure he likes me, and until I’m sure it won’t go bad again.”

“Are you fucking _stupid?_ ” Izumi’s expression and tone are indignant as he leans in towards him. “More like, are you actually that much of a fucking child? You can’t fucking control everything, Abe, you can’t always ensure a happy ending, or...or just not play! You wouldn’t do that in _baseball_ , would you?”

That, of all things, cows him, because of the person it brings to mind. Not that his presence hasn’t been hovering over this entire conversation, doesn’t reach up to choke him every time he feels himself pulled into Sakaeguchi’s warm smile, his sweet enthusiasm.

“I _know_ I can’t—”

“Then don’t say stupid shit like ‘until I’m sure it won’t go bad’!”

“I didn’t mean—” He cuts off with another groan, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He tries another tactic. “Weren’t you supposed to be cheering me up?”

“Who the hell said anything about that? I’m here to get you out of your poor employees’ hair. And if I have to hold your hand or hit you over the head with a pan and tell you to stop being such a dipshit in order to do so, then—”

“Okay, okay! I get it.” He unties his apron, pulling it over his head and taking it over to the laundry hamper tucked in a corner. “I’ll see you later, then.” Izumi makes a vague noise in response, already turning toward the front. Abe pokes his head around the door before he disappears down the hall with a quick, “Izumi?” waiting until he turns back before giving him a tight, mirthless smile. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He’s waved off dismissively, leaving Abe with a more genuine and affectionate smile as he heads down the hall to the office.

 _I suppose I’m lucky to have you, prickly as you are_ , he thinks as he pulls on his jacket. Really, it’s a bit too cold for it, now, but... _But HE wore it_. And when Sakaeguchi had handed it back to him, he’d complimented it, and Abe had felt warm and happy, not so much at that (he wasn’t the one who’d picked it, after all) as at the inexplicable urge to put it on right there and then and ask if _he_ looked good in it. He’s never been a vain man, but it’s also not like he doesn’t feel at least a small desire to look nice for the object of his affections. And so he’s found himself grabbing the jacket rather than his coat, making excuses to himself about how close the café is, how it hasn’t even been that cold this year, how he’s fine with a scarf and gloves.

He tries to think of some reasonable pretext for why he leaves out the front rather than the back, but he can’t come up with one, so he just steadfastly ignores Izumi’s knowing look as he stalks past. He slows as he reaches the front of the florist’s, enough that he can glance inside. Sakaeguchi is alone, now, leaning his elbows on the wrong side of the counter and looking at his wall with a small dreamy (and utterly adorable) smile. As if sensing eyes on him, he glances out the window. He straightens quickly, smile widening. Abe meets his eyes and returns his wave automatically, but the second Sakaeguchi takes a step towards his door, he hastens his steps to the closest corner, even though it’ll take him even farther from home. He pretends not to hear Sakaeguchi call his name.

* * *

 

Even though her presence stirs up more than its share of bad memories, and even though she leaves without fully reassuring him that she’s okay, Wakako’s visit cheers him immensely. Which is good, because for some reason, Abe is particularly standoffish with him. There’s even a few occasions where he’s not up front when Sakaeguchi comes in, even though he shows up, as always, promptly at ten thirty.

He tries not to take it personally because he assumes Abe’s life doesn’t _actually_ revolve around one short flirtatious florist. But it’s hard not to feel a little bit hurt, especially when he’d thought they were maybe getting closer, thought that the whole garden boxes thing was a definite overture from him, even if just to friendship. He manages to restrain himself from asking Suyama if he’s noticed anything up with him, partly because he doesn’t actually know how much of Abe _he_ sees. Izumi is also a potential source of information, but then again, he can’t guarantee he wouldn’t report back to Abe if Sakaeguchi was inquiring.

_What am I, a little kid? Afraid someone’s gonna tell teacher? Really, I ought to tell him to his face! Yeah, just walk up to him and say hey, I thought maybe we were flirting, but now you’re being all weird. Well, actually, you’ve been pretty weird from the get-go, and you kind of seem freaked out by the— Okay, maybe not._

It’s not like he’s afraid to take the lead, exactly, it’s just that he’s had more than one occasion where he’s misread a situation—he’s only human, after all—and, whether it’s just that he doesn’t want to make things awkward with a neighbour, or that Abe seems particularly delicate where this is concerned, he doesn’t want to just launch in and find out he was off the mark entirely. Because now, he realises, he really, _really_ likes Abe, despite his grouchy exterior—or perhaps because of it, and the way it doesn’t quite hide his truly caring nature. Even if he’d still be unwilling to admit it to Wakako or anyone else, Abe’s recent scarcity has made him finally stop lying to _himself_ about why he goes to the café so often. Perhaps things don’t feel like they’d be so easy as with Suyama, but they feel…balanced, a calm born not of stagnation but of even and opposing currents.

Doing his best to put these mushy thoughts out of his mind, he approaches the café. Another early morning, feeling that much earlier with the December sun still well below the city horizon, but hopefully, he’ll be able to catch Abe this way. Something strikes him as odd about the interior of the building, but, caught up in his own thoughts, he doesn’t quite process it until he gets inside.

There are crêpe paper streamers hung from the ceiling and the front of the bar and balloons drawn on the chalkboard that displays the daily specials. There is also the new girl (Okuda, he thinks) trying to hold back a laugh and holding out a typical party hat and a paper crown (the fancy type, with a couple fake jewels stuck to the front) to a glowering Abe.

“Come on, at least wear ONE of them!”

“Ooh, wear both!”

“I’m _not_ wearing EITHER.”

“Oh, is it someone’s biiiiirthday?” Sakaeguchi asks innocently, as if it weren’t obvious.

Abe whirls on him, cheeks flushed, and marches over, waving at the decorations. “See what they’ve done? This is ridiculous. I didn’t _ask_ for any of this bullshit, but they’re...” his eyes narrow and his mouth pulls into a flat line, “I came out of the office, and they _sang_ at me.”

Sakaeguchi presses his lips together, holding back his laughter as long as he can, but then doubles over, clapping a still-gloved hand over his mouth. Abe just seems so deeply put-out by the whole thing, and it’s adorable, and he’s worried if he doesn’t do something, keep his hands and face occupied, he’ll reach across the counter and grab the front of his (very nicely fitted— _is he going out after? With family, or...?_ ) button-up and kiss him. Abe leans across the counter, scowling down at him. While he’s distracted, someone sets the crown on his head, and the second Sakaeguchi comes up for air, he has to bend over again.

“I’m sorry, you’re just...!” He still giggles, watching Abe’s face turn a brighter shade of red. “I’ve never seen anyone so offended by their own birthday before...!”

“I’m not _offended_ by it, I just don’t see why there has to be such a big goddamn fuss!”

Sakaeguchi still smiles at him impishly, but mostly has his laughter under control. “Maybe they’re making a fuss because _they_ wanted to.”

“Well, OBVIOUSLY, because _I_ sure didn’t wan—”

“No, I mean—” He huffs out a breath, then continues, in a somewhat quieter voice, “They’re celebrating because it’s important to them to show you that they love you, y’know? It’s important to them to communicate that. It _isn’t_ about what you want, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile.” He tempers his words with a sympathetic smile, and Abe’s expression softens very slightly, too, as he glances back at the group of, so far as Sakaeguchi knows, almost everyone who works at the café. They grin back at him with varying levels of cheekiness.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbles.

“No, it doesn’t, but I’m just saying, appreciate _that_ they put effort in, even if you don’t appreciate the _what_.”

“You’re a preachy bastard, you know that?” Sakaeguchi sticks out his tongue, provoking a laugh. “Well, I sure don’t appreciate _this_ piece of shit—” Abe reaches up, obviously intent on removing the crown.

“NO, DON’T TAKE IT OFF!”

“Shh!”

“No, it’s cool, they’re coming now!”

“Should we turn out the lights?”

It’s a little like watching a train wreck in slow-mo, watching the slowly dawning realisation on Abe’s face, watching as he puts together the lighter that had been left out in the back room, the late bakery delivery that morning, and the sudden disappearance of Izumi a few minutes before, watching his expression transform from perplexed to horrified and then irate. Unfortunately for Abe, the short, freckled, unfamiliar kid about Izumi’s age just keeps on walking down the hall towards them with a shit-eating grin and a cake that was a beautiful little white-buttercream-covered affair with a delicious fruity-looking glaze on top until _someone_ covered it in enough candles to constitute a fire hazard. Izumi hovers behind the guy, giving him a look like he’s not _entirely_ confident he’s qualified to perform activities such as ‘walking’ and ‘carrying’ at the same time, but then grins broadly when he sees Abe. And, Sakaeguchi thinks, maybe when he sees _him_.

They sing again, and Abe musters a patient smile, although he walks over to where the cake has been set down with the dragging feet of a man approaching the executioner’s block. Sakaeguchi follows on the other side of the counter, but hangs back a bit, not wanting to intrude. But then a hand closes on his elbow, and Izumi drags him over until they end up standing at the end of the counter next to the cake. Abe glances over at him, and Sakaeguchi smiles at him, knowing it’s _that_ smile again, and hoping that, at a moment like this, it’s not too inappropriate. Abe’s eyes widen, and then he smiles down at the cake, and if there’s still an air of resignation to it, hopefully it won’t show in the photos the kids snap with their phones.

He dutifully blows out the candles, and everyone claps and cheers and the boy from the bakery jumps on Abe’s back and informs him that they weren’t certain how old he was but prolly super old so they just put on lots, to be sure. He gets elbowed in the gut for his trouble but doesn’t seem to care. And then someone shoves a knife into Abe’s hand (to yelled admonishments about proper knife safety) and deposits a pile of small plates next to the cake and someone else goes to attend to the customers who’ve been waiting with curious patience.

The delivery boy waves off a slice, though he eyes it longingly, then slips away with his grin back in place. Abe calls after him, “Tell Mihashi not to let them surprise me with shit like this in future!”

“No wa-ay! That’s no fun!” He sticks out his tongue, then dashes off. Sakaeguchi finds it impossible not to like him.

“That kid’s a prodigy, not that you’d know it.” Disregarding his previous protests re: safety, Abe gestures with the knife, then goes back to slicing the cake. “Bit of an airhead. But he’s a clever little cleanup, and I’ve seen him play at least three different positions competently. Not to mention his calls are fast and cocky as hell.” It takes half a second for Sakaeguchi to realise he’s telling _him_ this.

“Oh... Good for him? But he’s not pro, then...?”

“He’s in school. Works for the bakery during off-season. I’m just glad he’s not working for _me_.” Abe grimaces, and Sakaeguchi can’t help but laugh.

“He does seem very...energetic.”

“That’s a nice way to put it. Here.” Abe holds out a plate.

“Oh, no, I...! That’s for—”

“For whoever the heck I want to give it to. There’s gotta be some stuff I’m allowed to decide on my own damn birthday.” Abe gives him one of those lopsided grins that makes his heart skip a beat. “Or do I have to dump _this_ on your head, too?” The grin turns a little nasty, but something about that is...kind of hot. It leaves him flushed out to his ears, but then again, so is Abe, with the cake and all the attention.

“Alright, alright! I’ll have some. _Thank_ you.” He accepts the plate, then remembers the contents of his other hand, offering the yellow chrysanthemums to Abe, who gestures for him to put them down on the counter. “Ah, but I should— Here, wait a sec, I’ll be back for this!” He ignores Abe’s questioning noise and sets the plate down before darting off out the door.

_Even if it's just an accident, even something simple... I'm glad to know something more about you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a sidenote, I paleship Izumi/Abe REAL HARD. Backsass the fuck out of him. Backsass with LOVE.
> 
> Adonis: sorrowful or bitter memories. Marjoram: happiness.


	4. Gardenia

Sakaeguchi's shop seems lonely after the friendly hubbub of the café, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on that as he steps quickly along the line of plants. He pauses for a long time in front of a particular flower, knowing it’s a bad choice, knowing that it’s the _only_ choice. Or at least the only choice his silly romantic heart will let him make. He picks up the small gold cellophane-wrapped rose with a determined frown and marches back to the café, telling himself over and over _It’s NOT weird, it’s a NICE gift..._

He’s almost convinced himself it’s true when he gets there and sees Abe leaning back against the counter, still eating cake and looking incredibly appealing, particularly now he’s removed the shitty crown (which Sakaeguchi sees has received some battle damage recently, presumably in an attempt to get it back on Abe). Every part of him wants to come back around the counter, drop his present somewhere, and fit himself against the pleasing angles of Abe’s body, just stay like that, press his face against the silky-looking fabric of his shirt, curl his arms around him, murmur something congratulatory into his shoulder... Which is _exactly_ why he stays firmly on his side of the counter, holding the small pot out with a sheepish smile.

Abe raises his eyebrows at him. And then officiously beckons him over. Feeling as though he’s walking into certain doom, Sakaeguchi comes around the end of the counter, stopping about as far away as possible without being impolite, and holds out the dwarf rose. A few dark pink blossoms peek open from amongst the shiny deep green leaves, the rest still polite buds.

As Abe takes it from him, he launches into the speech he’s been rehearsing in his head since halfway between his shop and the café. “I don’t... Roses aren’t usually something I’d bring to a guy, since they don’t tend to like...” _Doing GREAT, so far._ “But the colour is important, with roses! And—”

Izumi walks between them with a bar rag, a cream pitcher, and a smirk. “What, you normally in the habit of bringing OTHER flowers to boys?”

Sakaeguchi’s heart is instantly in his mouth. Against his will, his eyes somehow lock with Abe’s, and all he can think is _I’M NOT A GODDAMN WEENIE, WAKAKO!_ “Yyyyes. Peony, or perhaps hyacinths, or," he waves at the yellow blossoms, already in vases, "chrysanthemums, for that matter, have been better received.” _I SURE JUST SAID THAT. HERE'S HOPING IT WASN'T A TERRIBLE MISTAKE._

Abe blinks at him, expression neutral, and Sakaeguchi feels his flush spreading slowly down his neck. But then Abe looks away, and while there’s a bright sploch of colour on his cheek, too, his voice is perfectly level when he speaks. “So, you said... You said the colour means something?”

“Yeah...” _Well, I guess that could have gone worse..._ “Dark pink is for gratitude. I’m...I’m grateful, for how friendly,” _AUGH!!!_ “you’ve been, these past few months. And I thought it’d be nice for you to have something to put in the back office that would continue blooming...”

“It’s for here?” There’s a note of disappointment in Abe’s voice that suddenly makes Sakaeguchi want to shake him.

“Well, it’s _yours_ now, so you can do whatever you please with it. Only a thought I had.” It comes out snippy, but better than the other words suddenly crowding at the back of his throat, words he’d like to yell at Abe, ask him _what kind of shitty dance is this, where any time I step forward, you step back, any time I step back, you step forward? What exactly do you WANT out of me, or do you want anything at all, am I just lying to myself, or WHAT??_ But he just stares silently at the rose, lips a tight line.

Abe watches him for a second, then gestures to the plate still sitting on the counter. “Eat your cake.” There’s an apology in his tone, if not in his words, though Sakaeguchi’s eyes narrow slightly and he wants to snap _you don’t even know what you’re apologising FOR_. But instead, he just takes a deep breath, picks up the plate, and takes a bite.

“Oh, this is really good!” He brightens considerably. The cake is light and lemony with a hint of lavender, balanced by the sweet cream with its unfamiliar berry taste. Somehow rich and tangy all at once.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favourites from him,” Abe says, sounding relieved. “It’s made with a French fruit liqueur. It actually has to sit for a day in order for the flavours to fully emerge, so I really ought to be more appreciative. He obviously thought about this well in advance.” There’s a bittersweetness to Abe’s smile that leaves Sakaeguchi burning with curiousity.

“A friend of yours, then?”

“Mm?” Abe looks up at him, then takes another bite of cake in an obvious play for time. Sakaeguchi takes another bite, too, waiting as patiently as he can. Particularly since it seems Abe’s actually inclined to answer for once. “Sort of. He’s... He pitches for the team I’m on.” Sakaeguchi has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from giggling; it’s _really_ not the right moment, especially with the way Abe avoids his eyes, slowly chewing another mouthful of cake. “We were...close for a while, and... We’re friends.” Abe meets his eyes again. “All our baked goods come from his bakery.”

“I HAD wondered where it came from. Everything’s delicious!” Abe hasn’t really answered his question in any sort of satisfying way, but he supposes he should be happy enough with what he got. _There’s time to wring more out of you..._

“Mm, that’s right, you had some the other day.” Abe’s eyebrows pull together.

“Yeah! Normally, I can’t leave the house without eating breakfast, but since Wakako—oh, she’s my sister!—was visiting, I thought we’d do something special. Would’ve been nice to go out somewhere, but it’s hard when it’s so early, and anyway, afterwards we went to this nice little place a couple blocks away for dinner, you really ought to try it if you haven't been, it's...” Abe’s staring at him with wide eyes; Sakaeguchi just keeps babbling with a slightly fixed smile, unsure what’s so fascinating. “I suppose I ought to have come with her and introduced her properly, but you know, opening, and...”

Abe shrugs, looking away. “That’s alright.” Something in his tone indicates that it’s _not_ alright, and Sakaeguchi gives him a sharp look, but then just sighs and eats some more cake.

 _Might as well push a little. Something gentler, though._ “Do _you_ have siblings?”

Abe looks over at him, as though startled that he wants to keep talking. “Yeah, a brother, couple years younger. Just the sister?”

“Nope, I’ve got a younger brother too, maybe a little older than Izumi.”

“Huh. They must miss you, then. You said you moved from out west?”

“Yeah, I did. And, well... I love my family dearly, but it’s nice to get away for a while, you know?”

“I know that feeling. I’m getting dragged out by my parents tonight.” He gives Sakaeguchi a rueful grin; he smiles back, trying not to let his glee that Abe's not headed out on a date show. “Wish _I’d_ had the foresight to set up somewhere further away.”

“Well, _I’m_ not, because then we wouldn’t have met.” About halfway through the sentence, he starts cringing internally. _GODDAMNIT. Well, maybe if I flirt with you hard enough, you’ll at least shoot me down already!_

“Oh. I guess that’s so.” _IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY TO THAT???_ Abe rubs his chin. “Mm... Maybe I should try and persuade THEM to move away, then...” He side-eyes Sakaeguchi with a grin, and he can’t help but laugh, though he waggles his fork at him admonishingly.

“You ought to appreciate them more! I wish _I_ could get taken out for supper on my birthday!” Abe laughs, and it hits Sakaeguchi that he doesn’t know about his parents. _CRAP I keep forgetting...oh god, I hope he doesn’t ask, now’s a TERRIBLE time to—_

“Well, then, _I’ll_ just have to take you out.”

Sakaeguchi nearly chokes, and he could swear he hears someone snigger from around the corner. But he really can’t worry about it too much, since most of his mind is caught up with thinking _DID HE SERIOUSLY JUST SAY THAT TO ME???_

His shock is obviously plainly visible on his face; Abe blinks at him a few times, then flushes and looks away. “I mean, I guess that’s not... With someone from... Well, I'm not even a coworker—”

“NO! I’d like that very much!” His tone is tight, high, and he tries to collect himself before continuing. “I mean, you must have grown up around here, right? So you probably know good places to eat...”

“Ah, yeah, I guess so.”

“Well. Good, then. Ah, but it’s not for a while...” _WHY COULDN’T I HAVE BEEN BORN IN JANUARY OR SOMETHING, DAMNIT!!!_

“Oh...” _HE SOUNDS DISAPPOINTED?? GREAT???_ “Well, then I’ll have plenty of time to think of somewhere good!” Abe nods, as though he’s just settled something momentous, and whether it’s his earnestness or the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation, Sakaeguchi laughs. He pats Abe’s arm, though whether it’s a comforting gesture or just that he really, _really_ wants to touch him, he couldn’t say. Abe starts a little at the contact, but for once, doesn't jerk away, for once, just smiles.

“I’ll look forward to it, then.” He glances down at the remains of his cake. "I guess I'd better finish this, and hurry back to the shop…"

"Mm. Let me make your drink first."

"Not on your birthday!"

"I _said_ , already, _I_ get to choose shit like this on my birthday. And if I wanna spend my time making an ugly latte, then that's what I'm gonna do!"

"Okay, okay, if you INSIST..." He presses his lips together in a giddy smile as he goes to fetch the honey, threading his way through the people waiting at the bar. The morning rush is well underway, and he's not entirely sorry to be escaping it, though he IS sorry they won't get to talk more. He smiles at the honey fondly as he brings it back to Abe, who makes an irritated noise when he takes the sticky bottle. Sakaeguchi snickers, then retreats to the end of the bar to finish his cake, enjoying watching Abe at work.

Abe steps back over to him, looking down at the cup with a rueful expression. “Messed this one up, too.”

“Eh, you’re right, it’s only gonna get wrecked, anyway...” Sakaeguchi holds out his hand expectantly, and then watches with his mouth open as Abe lifts the cup to his own lips.

He finishes drinking, eyebrows raised. “Hm. Not bad. Maybe I’ll make it a special, sometime.” He grins at Sakaeguchi's open-mouthed stare, then hands him the cup. “Since it’s my birthday...”

Sakaeguchi takes the cup, and, not taking his eyes off Abe’s, takes a drink. "Rude. I should take back one of my flowers." _Did he just...indirect kiss me? That’s...REALLY CUTE??_ He can't meet Abe's eyes or stop himself from grinning like a goof. Sakaeguchi shoves the last bite of cake into his mouth, wishing desperately that he had an excuse to stay.  _But honestly...I don't know how much more of this I can take in one sitting._ “I guess I’d better head out... Thank you for the cake, and the delicious latte!” He beams at Abe, who smiles back at him, shifting towards him.

There’s the length of a breath where he thinks maybe, _maybe_ something’s finally going to happen with the way Abe looks at him, the way he leans close, the way his fingers twitch where they’re splayed on the counter. But at the last minute, Abe says, “See ya,” claps him on the shoulder, and slips past him into the kitchen. Sakaeguchi pulls a sour face, then sighs, grabs a lid for his cup, and heads to work.

* * *

Things continue like that, Abe alternately flirting back and running away. It’s enough to leave a man dizzy. At least Sakaeguchi feels like his _own_ intentions have been made...well, clearer, at any rate. _Oh my god, WHY DIDN'T I JUST SAY SOMETHING?? WHY DID I SAY ANYTHING AT ALL?_

He has fantasies on sweeping him off on some grand seductive Christmas date, stays up more than a few nights planning the whole thing out (perhaps buy a cake and give himself a chance to scope out that bakery and the mysterious Mihashi who Abe had “been close” with), but in the end, he can’t bring himself to do it. All he can think about is Abe's non-reaction to him coming out ( _though you could barely call it that I'M NOT A WEENIE, WAKAKO_ ).

Sakaeguchi comforts himself with the exceptionally good business he does on the day; it _almost_ makes up for the voice in his head whispering _coward_.

He considers going home for New Years, but when he Skypes with Wakako, she tells him not to; Yuki has stayed in the dorms over the holidays, and _she_ has a date, apparently, whom she tells him about in great detail. He finally owns up to having a crush on Abe; she gives him a very patient and loving smile, tells him no shit, and asks him if at least _this_ one is single.

* * *

He stays open late on New Year’s Eve, heading home on a crowded train. He debates getting dressed up, finally deciding on a nice cobalt blue button-up and his slate sweater under his coat. He wraps himself up in the rust-coloured scarf Wakako made for him two years ago and heads out into the chill air.

The temple he’d seen advertising its New Year’s festival isn’t too far, so he walks. As he nears the grounds, he can hear the noise and bustle. There are a few families with young children, a couple in kimono under puffy winter coats. He smiles as he dodges some kids running past trailing laughter and happy yells, minds full of treats. There are, of course, several younger couples, too, and as he climbs the hill to the temple, he indulges in a daydream of walking hand-in-hand with Abe. Of doing all the stupid cliché festival activities together. Of Abe dressed in a kimono too, perhaps a somewhat loosely-tied one, so his chest was visible…

Sakaeguchi slaps his cheeks, sighing, and heads over to a takoyaki stall.

He takes his time, especially because he’s never been to the temple before. Although it’s fairly modest and there’s not a whole lot to see. _I wonder if the festival is a ploy to gain a bit more community interest…_

Hot guys aside, it’d be nice if he had someone to hang out with, but he’s having a good enough time just people-watching and making small talk with the occasional neighbour he recognises. _Oh, perhaps I could’ve invited Suyama and his boyfriend…_ He’s relieved by the lack of bitterness he feels; at least he seems to have succeeded in pushing _those_ feelings aside. _Though I can’t guarantee they wouldn’t resurge if Suyama ever broadcast that he were single again._ Still, he supposes this outing will give him something to talk to him about the next time they see each other, perhaps press for more information on the mysterious Hanai (he’s at least ascertained _that_ much).

He’s watching a preteen walk her younger sibling through fishing for goldfish when he hears an unfamiliar voice call his name. Assuming it’s meant for someone else, he ignores it, even when the young man yells again, accompanied by the chirping yells of small children. However, when he hears a familiar voice boom out, “YUUTO!” he whirls, gaping.

Abe walks towards him, followed by an older couple who he presumes are his parents: a large, stout, affable-looking man and a small woman with stylish hair and a sharp humour to her eyes, still beautiful despite looking to be well into her fifties. Ahead of them run two young girls dressed in brightly-coloured kimono under winter coats with mittens dragging on strings. And dragging after them is a young man who looks eerily similar to Abe, except that there is none of Abe’s tension and gruffness to him. But nor is there any of his elegance. He wears a reddish-brown kimono striped with pale tan, and a navy haori over top, and… And behind him is Abe, _also_ wearing a kimono. A solid deep forest green under a black haori with a subtle silvery geometric pattern. Sakaeguchi can’t help noticing (with some disappointment) that it’s wrapped tight. Still, the straight-hanging fabric compliments Abe’s long legs and the lines of his figure, and he looks surprisingly (and offensively sexily) at ease in it.

 _And obi can always be loosened…_ Sakaeguchi hopes they’ll attribute his flush to the brisk air.

“Hey, Sakaeguc—”

A five-year-old plasters herself to his leg. “Sa-kae-guuuuu-chi!!”

“HI! Oh MAN, so _you’re_ the gu—”

“ _Shun_.” Abe swats the back of the young man’s head; he rubs the spot, giving Abe a resentful look. Abe ignores him in favour of prying the child off Sakaeguchi. _His…sisters? Surely not… Then…_ Sakaeguchi eyes the young man, trying to do some frantic mental math, thoughts interrupted by Abe. “THIS is my brother Shun. He’s a pest, and _he’s_ the one who insisted we wear _this_ B.S. tonight.” Abe gestures down at himself, looking sheepish. _Not so at ease after all?_ Sakaeguchi sends a silent thank you to the kid. “These two hooligans are Shiho and Mie, our cousins.” Sakaeguchi does his best not to show his relief outwardly. “And _these_ are my parents, Abe Takashi and Abe Misae.”

Sakaeguchi bows politely. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Sakaeguchi Yuuto; I run a florists’ near your son’s café.”

“Hey, Sakaeguchi! Good to meet ya!” Well, it’s evident where Abe got his volume from.

“Oh, yes, we’ve heard about the florist!” _What,_ _Abe has seriously been talking to his family about me? Oh my god…!_ “I’ve seen the lovely flowers you’ve been bringing in.” Misae gives him a friendly smile. “You’d probably see me a lot if we lived closer!” She turns to pull a disappointed moue at Abe. “Taka, why don’t you ever bring your poor mama flowers?”

Abe sighs, sticking his hands in his sleeves in what seems an unnecessarily appealing fashion. “Because I don’t know what anything is, and I don’t know what you like.”

“I’m sure Sakaeguchi-kun would be able to help you pick something…”

“I _do_ pride myself on being able to put together excellent arrangements. And I would say I’m fairly good at reading what people like. For instance,” he knows damn well he’s showing off, trying to win the favour of this prim woman, “I’d say…hm… Perhaps daffodils and irises?”

She gives him a startled look, then claps her hands together, laughing. “Yep! Both flowers I’m fond of." She fixes him with a teasing look. "Though not my favourite.” She whirls on her eldest. “See, Taka? You’ve no excuse, now!”

_Taka. Short for…? It’s not fair, him knowing MY given name and me not knowing HIS!_

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’ll bring you something next Tuesday.”

Mie, the older of the two girls, pulls on his sleeve. “Me too! I want flowers too!”

“Shiho, too!” Shiho grabs Abe’s other arm, dangling with a peal of laughter when he lifts her.

Sakaeguchi leans over with a conspiratorial air. “I’ll give you a discount.”

“Just don’t expect me to choose anything, that’s all I ask.” Abe smiles back at him easily, and Sakaeguchi feels his heart leap in his chest. The two girls release Abe, distracted by the goldfish stall; he shakes out his arms with a sigh, shifting over such that his elbow brushes Sakaeguchi’s. Somehow, neither of them moves away.

Takashi pokes him in the ribs, ruining his blissful moment. “So, kid, you here with anyone, or…?”

He waves his hands with an embarrassed laugh. “Ah, no, I must confess I came alone. I’m from out of town, and I’d been so caught up with work over the holiday season, I didn’t get a chance to make plans with anyone…”

Takashi slaps his shoulder. “Well, come with us, then!”

“Ah, that would be lovely! …So long as I’m not intruding…”

One of the girls dangles from _his_ arm, now. “Yaaaaaaay!”

“Absolutely not. More the merrier, and the more eyes on _these_ two.” Takashi gives Sakaeguchi another overenthusiastic swat, then turns, looking around. “Now, where d’you suppose we can grab a drink of some kind…?” He takes Misae’s hand, setting off through the crowd. Shun grabs the girls’ hands, ready to follow, but turns to grin at Sakaeguchi before pulling them off after his parents.

Leaving him walking beside Abe, who grimaces over at him. “Sorry my family’ve commandeered you. You don’t have to stick around or anything; I think this goes beyond the requirements of being polite to your neighbours.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s kind of refreshing! Plus, it was a little lonely here all by myself.”

Abe side-eyes him. “Isn’t it more normal for a guy to stay home or go out partying on a night like tonight?” He pulls a sulky face at the backs of his family “If they’re not being dragged around on babysitting duty, that is.”

Sakaeguchi chuckles, though he gives the group ahead of them a more thoughtful look. “Well, I guess you could say I’m out here tonight to see family, too.” Out of long habit, he waits until Abe gives him a questioning look before he continues. _Not everyone wants to have this conversation._ “My mother passed when I was a teen, and then Dad had a heart attack a few years back. I suppose it’s not strictly speaking required, but… On holidays, I kind of like dropping by a temple and saying hi, y’know? Just…checking in with family. Letting them know we’re doing all right.”

Abe stays silent for a long while, until they’ve come to a stop, watching the girls and another small child chase Shun and some cotton candy through what looks like a fallow vegetable patch in behind one of the buildings. Finally, Abe offers, “You’re awfully cheerful for an orphan.”

Sakaeguchi stares at him for a moment before sputtering out a laugh. As much out of relief that Abe hasn’t offered up the same empty, tired platitudes he’s long since made his peace with but still hates on some level. “Well, it’s not an accident! I’ve worked _hard_ to be a cheery little orphan!” Abe looks at him quizzically, and Sakaeguchi tries to quiet himself. “You know. Little things. Holding onto the good stuff, even if it’s small. Honey in my lattes. Even—” He gasps as an irate Mie runs into him.

“Yuuuuuuuto, Shun won’t give us candy!”

Abe tugs on her ponytail. “Don’t just use his given name…!”

“ _Quite_ alr—”

“Your name’s too looooooong!! Buy us some more! Pleeeeeeease?” She smiles in a way he’s sure _she_ believes looks sweet. Shiho scampers up and pulls on Sakaeguchi’s hand, echoing her sister.

“I—”

“ _I’ll_ buy you some. Don’t be so rude, you brats.” Abe grabs their collars, turning back towards the stalls. And promptly walking into an elderly monk, wiry and tanned with a good-humored glint in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, excuse us…”

“Don’t worry about it!” The old monk smiles, then grabs the front of Abe’s haori, peering into his face curiously. He scans around behind him, eyes not pausing on Sakaeguchi or Shun. Shaking his head, the monk releases Abe. “You look like you’re gonna be alright, here, kid.”

“Eh?” Abe has that familiar look of irritation when the world has the ill manners to not make sense. The monk just claps him on the shoulder and steps up onto the wood walkway running around the building next to them, waving absently over his shoulder. Abe watches him for a moment longer, then shrugs, allowing himself to be dragged off to the cotton candy stall.

Shun launches in, then, asking Sakaeguchi all sorts of nosy questions that he doesn’t mind answering and tells him several stories it’s probably fortunate his brother is out of earshot for. He’s waylaid by Misae to talk about gardening and clothing and snark about a particular grocery chain that it turns out neither of them like, and then Takashi interrogates him regarding his favourite team and players and basically his entire baseball playing history and then tells him more than Sakaeguchi _ever_ wanted to know about the plumbing business. _He_ gets to coach the girls through catching goldfish of their own, and it leaves him with something warm and melancholy-tinged spreading through his chest. But all in all, there’s something very relaxing about being around a family again, even if they’re not his. And even if he’d _really_ rather have Abe to himself.

He finds himself finally back beside Abe as his parents get Mie to point out her painting in a display from the local elementary school. Abe stretches, yawning, and Sakaeguchi glances over at him. “You okay, being out so late? You must start work very early…”

“Eh, I napped all afternoon. I’m fine. And we’re closed, tomorrow, so at least I can sleep in!” He side-eyes Sakaeguchi with a grin. “What, trying to get rid of me so soon? I’m good for a few hours, yet.”

 _Don’t say that while you’re making such a cocky face! It makes me think of wholly indecent things..._ Sakaeguchi still musters a pleasant smile, jerking his head in the direction of Shun with a semi-conscious Shiho dangling from his arms. “Well, it _did_ seem like they’re wrapping up, so…”

He looks back at Abe, which is perhaps a mistake; he’s immediately caught in his steady gaze. “I’m not tied to my family.”

Sakaeguchi manages to tear his eyes away again, trusting to the night and the lights that are now mostly behind them to hide his flush. “Well, er, I mean, myself, I was just going to go pray, and then head home…”

“Not going to see in the New Year?”

Steeling himself, he turns back again, challenge in his eyes. “Well, I didn’t know I had anyone to see it in _with_.”

Abe is the one who glances away this time. Shun is slowly but pointedly walking his drooling burden down the steep path toward the street, and Takashi is crouched down in a familiar way, asking Mie if she’s got all her things.

“Then see it in with me.” The words are soft, almost lost in the background noise of the winding-down festival.

Bright happiness twists in Sakaeguchi’s stomach, and he has to resist the urge to cover his face. _HOW old am I, again?_ “I’d like that.” His voice is soft as well, but it still provokes a slow, slightly shaky inhale beside him, a hand brushing against his own.

A little ways down the hill, Misae is beckoning them; she frowns briefly when she sees Abe’s slight head shake, but still turns with a cheery wave. “Well,” Abe says, whirling suddenly, “we should go say hi to _your_ parents before they close up.”

Sakaeguchi trails after him through the thinning crowd, giddy. When they reach the building where a few sticks of incense still send their smoke up to catch in the eaves, Abe stops, waiting until he catches up before stepping up. Sakaeguchi can’t help wondering if it has a _little_ to do with the elderly monk from before who now leans on a broom off to the side, watching them with detached curiousity. Still, he sets these thoughts aside, and even any thoughts about Abe’s proximity or how soft the fabric of his haori is. He obtains a stick of incense, lights it, then closes his eyes, inhaling its familiar mix of spice and rich wood scents.

_Mom, Dad… I’ve been very fortunate this year, and was able to realise my dream and buy a place. I love my job, I love spending every day surrounded by flowers, I love being able to make people happy, and I love finally being my own boss._

_I saw Wakako, and I think she’s doing okay even though she’s alone now. I wish Yuki had gone home for break, but I suppose he’s his own person, after all. I’ll make sure to go home for Obon, though. Preferably before. Visit you properly, too._

_I know I say the same stuff every year, but I’m so glad for everything you gave us. All that you taught us, all that you inspired in us, all that you dreamed of for us. We are as strong as we are because of you and the home that you built. I am sorry I didn’t get to know you for longer, but I couldn’t have asked for better parents. I hope, if you’re still ‘there’ somewhere, that you’re at peace, and can feel a little proud of your children!_

_Also I think my evening might be about to turn into a date and I’m having a lot of trouble not grinning like an idiot right now. Please forgive your rude child._

_I love you both dearly. Please watch over us._

He sets his stick down, and if his eyes are a little glassy as they turn and walk down the steps, he’s sure Abe will politely blame it on the smoke.

Behind them, the monk returns to his tidying, and around them, people are merrily tearing down the stalls. Sakaeguchi clears his throat. “So. What…what now?”

“Well, we could just talk.” Abe’s eyes flick to him.

“I suppose so. And you owe me something juicy about yourself, anyway, since I told you about my parents!”

Abe raises an eyebrow at him. “What, no free lunches?”

Sakaeguchi blanches, then elbows him in the side with a grin. “Nope! So, story-time it is.”

Abe makes a great show of sighing in resignation, but then smiles over at him. “So, what d’you wanna know?”

“Hmm…” Now _he’s_ making a show, as if he didn’t have a ranked list of things he wants to know about.  _And tonight feels full of possibilities._ “How about you tell me more about that baker friend of yours?”

Abe makes an oh-shit face, covering it quickly with his hand. _You don’t want to, but now you’re stuck! What will you do, this time? Will you flee, or…?_ Abe’s steps become more purposeful, leading them towards a small grove of crooked pines overlooking the hill, away from the path down. _A perfect place for a romantic tryst_ , Sakaeguchi can’t help thinking.

Cutting off further thought in that direction, Abe starts, “Him… It’s complicated.”

“I gathered as much.”

Abe swallows, setting his jaw, but continues, picking his way over the uneven ground with his hands shoved in his sleeves again. “We… You know how batteries are. Even though it’s a casual league and all… He was just _exactly_ the kind of pitcher I’d always wanted, and for his part… Y’know, he’d wanted to go pro? But didn’t have the guts, or anyone who would actually _work_ with him and draw out his potential, and I…” There’s a deep-running indignance in Abe’s voice that Sakaeguchi can only wonder at. “I finally gave that to him. Believed in him. Too little, too late, but…” He just nods sympathetically, slowing when Abe does. “We got…really close.” Abe trails his fingers over the rough bark of one of the pines. “We…we kind of dated for a while,” he informs the tree in a quiet voice.

It’s not like he’s unsympathetic, but Sakaeguchi still fights the urge to roll his eyes. _Well, at least he’s said it._ “I’ve ‘kind of dated’ a few guys in my time,” he says, both in commiseration and making ABSOLUTELY sure Abe knows he’s not straight, either.

“It was a mistake.” _Crap._ “We just…us… It wasn’t healthy.” _Okay…better than "I regret the whole thing entirely and have since sworn off dick because I’m a giant baby’"?_ “I think they say…codependent? And it reminded me too much of…something else that wasn’t good.” Turning quickly, he fixes Sakaeguchi with a stern look. “You’ll have to tell me something _real_ good to get THAT story out of me, so don’t even bother.” He goes back to talking to the tree. “We worked things out, eventually, and everybody has managed to be very Polite and Grown-Up about the whole thing, but…I know he’s still hurt. But still…” Abe shakes his head. “I’m glad we stayed friends, because I love playing with him. And not long after, I bought the café, and I swear, that guy is _beyond_ amazing in the kitchen, and I wasn’t gonna be getting my baked goods from anywhere else. All our soup recipes are his, too, actually.”

Abe always seems to brighten comically when food comes up, and Sakaeguchi can’t help but smile at his earnest expression. “I’ll have to try some next time!”

“Do it!” Abe grins at him, and Sakaeguchi finds himself glancing away shyly.

There’s an odd narrow stone bench set into the hillside a little further down, and while it doesn’t look particularly inviting, it seems about as good as anything. Sakaeguchi picks his way around gnarled roots and spreading branches to settle down on it; it’s just as cold and hard as he’d imagined, but he finds he’s willing to be forgiving. He thinks for a moment that Abe might not sit with him, but then he does. And not demurely on the other end of the bench, either. Close enough that their knees press together warmly, that their elbows bump.

The night is chill, full of the crisp fresh scent of the trees, and he’s glad of the warmth at his side, and for his gloves and scarf, pulling the latter a little closer around his neck. _And not at ALL to hide my expression_. He glances over at Abe. “Aren’t you chilly?”

“A little, but I’m fine. I had the foresight to wear extra layers. Besides,” he leans against Sakaeguchi’s shoulder, “you’re cozy enough for me.”

Sakaeguchi lets himself cover his face outright, laughing into his hands. He’s pretty sure he must be radiating quite a bit of heat, considering how flushed he feels. Catching his lip in his teeth, he lets himself lean back against Abe, almost wanting to groan with how good it feels. Just being close like this, just letting himself touch. Instead, he just sighs, kicking at the thick layer of pine needles underfoot.

“So, you gonna tell me something else?”

He jumps a little at Abe’s words, jerked out of an internal debate regarding the wisdom of laying his head on Abe’s shoulder. “Eh? Yeah, sure. I don’t have a dramatic dating past to reveal, though!”

Abe chuckles. “It doesn’t have to be something earth-shattering. Just tell me anything. What about your siblings?”

“Sure!”

They exchange less heavy stories: bits of their childhoods, how they started in baseball—Sakaeguchi loves seeing the pride in Abe’s eyes any time he talks about it, even his smile when he talks about forming a battery with Mihashi. They talk more about food, Abe recommending some places he might not have found, Sakaeguchi with some recommendations of his own in case Abe ever found himself in his hometown.

From an apartment building below, they hear scattered drunken voices start a countdown before dissolving into giggles and shushing. Like streetlights coming on at dusk, there are countdowns and yelling and then the sound of the temple’s bell behind them. Sakaeguchi catches himself glancing guiltily over his shoulder to make sure they’re not visible from the temple buildings.

When he turns back, Abe’s watching him. Almost…expectantly.

Eyes gone wide, Sakaeguchi whispers breathlessly, “Happy New Year.” Abe’s face is so close, his eyes no longer on Sakaeguchi’s but somewhere a little lower, and their fingers brushing on the bench between them. He twists, his chest pressing against Abe’s shoulder, reaching out to touch tentative fingertips to his cheek.

Abe releases a shaky breath, turning so his lips brush the ball of Sakaeguchi’s thumb, making his stomach twist pleasantly. But then, abruptly, Abe’s pulling out of his light hold, hiding his face against his shoulder. “Happy…happy New Year.”

Sakaeguchi laughs it off as best he can, stoically refuses to indulge the disappointment and frustration coiling in his chest even if he can’t completely contain his bitter smile. He pointedly clasps his hands on his lap, dipping his chin as he looks out over the houses and apartment buildings below, then clears his throat. “You were saying, before, about…about travelling.”

“Uh. Yeah…” Abe doesn’t look at him, but he does stop hiding, and a little of the tension drains from his body.

Sakaeguchi takes heart in the fact that, whatever his reluctance to do anything physical, Abe seems in no hurry to end the conversation. And he hasn’t moved any further away, either, their hands still brushing occasionally as they go back to talking about things that are much more distant, neutral.

He _does_ note that there seems to be a gap in Abe’s timeline, that he doesn’t naturally start in about middle school when Sakaeguchi mentions that period himself. He figures Abe must have his reasons, though, and decides not to push.

 _Someday, you’ll be comfortable enough. I_ _hope_.

The frustration rises up again. _It feels like every time I push even a little, you go running like you did just now. It's driving me nuts, when I just want..._ Words float to him, worn smooth and familiar like a beach stone, and he can't help smiling ruefully. _I guess it's good for me. And...maybe I'm kind of enjoying it too._

“ _You_ look awfully happy.”

Sakaeguchi realises with a start that they’ve been sitting in silence for quite a long time, and for some portion of that he’s been smiling off into space like a loon. “Oh, I was just…ah…” A relevant half-truth. “I was thinking of another thing to do with my mother. There was a story that she loved, and she had a few favourite quotes from it. One of them was,” he flushes a little, knowing he’s about to perpetrate great atrocities of pronunciation, ““C’est le temps que tu as perdu pour ta rose qui fait ta rose si importante.”” Abe _doesn’t_ laugh outright, so either he doesn’t know the difference or is being very polite. “It translates to, “The time you have lost for your rose is what has made it important.””

Abe huffs out a laugh finally, glancing over at him. “The hell does it _mean_ , though?”

“Well, I always took it to mean sort of…" Sakaeguchi avoids his gaze, feeling silly. "That there’s no such thing as wasted time.”

“Huh.” Abe looks out over the roofs stretching away below them. “So, you saying you’re wasting your time right now?” Sakaeguchi turns quickly, protest dying on his lips when he sees the crinkle of Abe’s eyes, the quirk of his lips. He bumps into Abe’s shoulder with a grumbling noise. Abe laughs, turning the bump into another long held contact; his hand, resting on his thigh, shifts towards Sakaeguchi’s where it’s curled on the edge of the bench.

Hyper-aware of that hand, he tries to explain better. “We give things their importance. It’s not something innate to them. That’s not an absolute, obviously, there are some things that can’t be ignored, but…sometimes, we _allow_ certain things to rule our lives and our psyches, for better or worse. And… Well, I suppose it doesn’t have much to do with the quote anymore, but….” He smiles a self-deprecating little smile at the houses below. “If something awful _does_ rule your life for a while, or even forever, it’s not a waste. It’s shitty, but you pick yourself up as best you can and keep going, and one day—”

He’s watching Abe’s hand out of the corner of his eyes, so he notices the second _it_ moves, holding perfectly still as their fingers lace together. But he’s caught completely off-guard when Abe bends around and kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loser-meganes drew a thing for this MONTHS ago and I'm Still Dying and it is still my desktop background: http://loser-meganes.tumblr.com/post/121672401852/gardeniajoy-hes-watching-abes-hand-out-of-the
> 
> Sakaeguchi honestly needs to stop lecturing Abe. RUDE. And yes, the kimono are entirely gratuitous. Fight me.
> 
> Gardenia: joy
> 
> *casually minimises windows so I can stare lovingly at my desktop*


	5. Pine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw warn B)

Sakaeguchi gasps in a breath through his nose. It’s not the best kiss he’s ever had; Abe missed slightly, his jaw is tense, and overall it’s stiff and a little unpleasant. But Sakaeguchi still melts like a teenager being kissed for the first time. He turns, hand coming up to grab the front collar of Abe’s haori, and some tightness in Abe ebbs.

_Did you think after all of this that I wouldn't like it?_

Their mouths slide softer now and Abe's tongue flickers ticklish and wonderful under his upper lip, makes him inhale sharp. In answer to it or in response to his own private landscape, Abe's breath rushes out on a warm hum of sound. His cheek is rough against the tip of Sakaeguchi's nose, and this, these small things, they leave him with irresistible warmth building inside him.

_Screw patience, this is SO much better than waiting._

Abe pulls back, kissing his cheek. He just rests like that, bringing his hand up to fit against Sakaeguchi's jaw, light, too light, but he’s caught in that touch, immobilised with the gentle happiness of the moment. Abe seems frozen too, but god, even if he's not moving forward, he's not pulling back for once and now, now Sakaeguchi feels like he can push. He noses against him, brushing his lips over Abe's cheek, then draws back until he can see his mouth, take in the loose readiness, the faintest hint of a smile at the corners. Feeling a rush like he's falling, he dives back in with a low hum. Abe presses forward to meet him like breaking water.

Sakaeguchi feels heavy with sleep and wonder and the quiet of the now-empty temple grounds and the ancient trees enfolding them in their scent and their protective cover. Feels as though they move in a dream, his arms coming up to drape loose around Abe's shoulders, Abe's hands stroking down his back over and over and then sliding around his waist and pulling him insistently closer until Sakaeguchi swings his leg over Abe's hips. Hard stone under his knees but Abe's thighs so beautifully plush under his ass and his pleased noise vibrating against Sakaeguchi's cheek and his hands pushing up his back and hiking up his coat. Cold air kisses the small of his back and that too is perfect, ice to offset the heat inside, the heat of Abe's hands and his lips, his lips on Sakaeguchi's own. He drags kisses down his jaw, down, down, tugging Sakaeguchi's scarf out of the way so he can kiss his throat. Sakaeguchi slides his fingers up the back of Abe's head, smiling into his hair with a shuddering breath. He notes that Abe _does_ use some kind of product and it smells deliciously of apples.

Dreamily, he rubs his cheek against Abe's hair and then kisses him. Abe sighs out a breath, lips moving against his skin in a kiss, in a silent request that Sakaeguchi is full of desire to fill. But no request comes, just Abe pressing his face hard into the curve of Sakaeguchi's neck and his arms sliding more securely around his back.

Sakaeguchi rests his chin on top of Abe's head, smiling hazily into the still shadows. "The only thing that would make this more romantic would be if it started snowing." He starts, covering his mouth. "Oh shit, but then you really would get cold!" He giggles, more at his own moment-ruining lameness than anything, then presses another kiss into Abe's hair, fingers trailing down to fit against his cheek tenderly. He tries to coax him to look up but his gentle urging meets resistance. "You wanna slow down?"

Abe’s silent for a long time before nuzzling his shoulder with a barely-audible groan. His arms tighten around him, but Sakaeguchi pushes back anyway, even though everything in him cries out to stay. He slides off Abe’s lap; Abe lets him go.

Sakaeguchi stands in front of him with his hands on Abe’s shoulders, fighting his own reluctance, but eventually takes a deep breath and steps back over to his ‘side’ of the bench, turned sideways with one knee bent so he can rest his elbow on it. He lets his lips curve in a gentle smile for whenever Abe might be ready to look over at him.

 _So. Waiting might not be ideal, but I can DEFINITELY wait for THIS._ He inhales a shivering breath.

Sakaeguchi wriggles in place to get as comfortable as possible before leaning his chin on his hand, considering Abe’s profile. Abe finally sighs out a breath, scrubbing at his face with the heels of his hands, then glances over at Sakaeguchi. He can’t help the way he brightens when their eyes meet, finds himself blushing and looking away like a goofy kid, peering back up at the barely-visible roof peaks for a moment and then looking at Abe out of the corner of his eyes. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to roll forward and climb back onto Abe’s lap, looking at his heavy-lidded eyes and the pleasing angles created by the twist of his upper body.

He doesn’t bother resisting his next impulse which leaves him swinging his leg back down and leaning to the side to grab Abe’s shoulder, tugging him over (with only slight protest) until he lays with his head in his lap. The bench is really too narrow for this, and it’s probably even less comfortable for Abe than it is for him, but it’s _more_ than worth it, he thinks. And here, again, he can enjoy Abe’s profile, study his strong nose and the fan of lashes almost touching the curve of his cheek, the beautiful angle of his eyebrows. The way the corner of his mouth turns up a little, somewhere between offended and amused. Sakaeguchi strips off his gloves, shoving them in his pocket, and lets himself trace a fingertip under that small smile, then over Abe’s upper lip, then shifts his hand to his shoulder, resting it there with an affectionate smile.

“If I fall asleep, I’ll fall.”

“Then keep talking to me, don’t sleep.”

“We could always move.”

“You _want_ to move?”

Abe presses his cheek into Sakaeguchi’s thigh. “No.”

“Good.” Sakaeguchi lets himself slide his fingers over Abe’s neck, up to push into his hair. “I might not let you.”

Abe just grabs hold of his hand, pulling it against his cheek.

Eventually, they wander down the hill, lighting the way with phones but still managing to stumble into each other. They wander aimlessly for a few blocks, fingers occasionally curling around each other in a brief hold before drifting apart. But the only destination Sakaeguchi can think of to suggest in the early morning gloom is home, and he knows Abe will refuse. He thinks, perhaps, he would come if he pushed, if he phrased it carefully as an offer of breakfast rather than a threat of anything more. But he doesn’t find out, just parts ways with Abe at some random intersection that will now be the backdrop for the close of a perfect night. The end of a new beginning, or at least so he hopes.

* * *

Abe stumbles home to fall asleep in the room that was once his and is now a stiffly decorated guest room, staying down until late morning when his mother comes to knock on the door and inform him there is food and coffee if he will deign to drag his sorry ass downstairs. He mutters a protest about when he came home but knows from past experience that it won’t get him anywhere.

He sits on the edge of the bed, stretching, feeling more himself in sweatpants and a t-shirt. But that just serves to make the night before seem untouchable, seem like something that happened to someone else. Someone worthy of that gorgeous, sweet young man who was busily turning his entire world inside out, shattering all his self-protective resolve. For a long moment, he considers getting back into bed, pulling one of the pillows down against his chest and abandoning himself to remembering the way Sakaeguchi felt in his lap, against his side, pillowed under his cheek. But it already feels so distant, and he’s so deeply mistrustful of the want that rises in him for more of that, scared to indulge it for even a moment lest it overwhelm him again and suck him under.

So he goes down to breakfast, dodging some of his family’s questions about where he disappeared to with that nice young man and answering others as naturally as he can manage. Stuffs himself with the free food and then chases his mother out of the kitchen so he and Shun can do the cleaning up. As they get into a very grown-up water fight, he has the thought that though these relationships change and grow, they somehow stay roughly the same, keep these common threads, theses familiar patterns worked into the new cloth.

Just like he’s afraid of happening with Sakaeguchi.

And it felt like last time, the harder he tried to resist Haruna’s memory, the more he became trapped in it, until he ended up creating a new cloth, an inverted version that was just as ugly, just as undesirable, just as quick to tangle around his limbs and drag him down.

He watches his parents as they sit in the living room passing back and forth in the pattern of their marriage. Wonders if they would understand if he explained, if they would know how to set a new pattern, how to correct it if the strands started falling out of place.

_Perhaps the new fabric should have flowers on it._

His father asks him what he’s smiling to himself about, and he flushes and deflects with a question about his staff.

It hits him later that evening that Sakaeguchi probably won’t open his shop for a few days yet and that he doesn’t have his phone number or address or any way of contacting him whatsoever. On January second, he walks most of the way to the intersection where they parted, then realises he doesn’t know what on earth he’ll accomplish by being there. He’s a little offended by his own half-formed childish fantasy of running into Sakaeguchi, of being able to take him up on the invitation he thought he’d seen in his eyes, of taking his hand properly and letting himself be led to his home and pulled back into his warm embrace and feel those lips on his, feel that peace that seems already so distant.

He remembers a coffee shop another block past the corner, and resolutely tramps past to get to it. _I need to give myself SOME reason to have come here._ He ignores the corner completely on his way past, reaches the coffee shop, and orders a latte. It comes with a swirling clover design on the top; the girl behind the bar says, “For the New Year. Good luck!” It looks very nice, though when he takes a sip, the coffee is indifferent.

He turns back to the bar. “Hey, do you have honey?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s right there...” The girl points behind him at the condiments, frowning at him impatiently before returning to filling a whip cream canister.

She looks up again, startled, at his incredibly cheery, “Thanks!” though.

A good latte does not require sweetness. Milk is already a little sweet, and it is more than enough to accentuate and round out the bitter fullness of the espresso, particularly if you have the good fortune to have access to organic milk. Really, a good espresso does not need any accompaniment at all. But a _bad_ latte, or even a mediocre one, is very much improved by adding the mellow sweetness of honey or the molasses richness of brown sugar, imparting a complexity of flavour that is lacking and bringing out what good there is in the coffee. Even if a good latte doesn’t _need_ sweetening, though, it can still benefit from the addition of a little sugar, allowing some of the flavours to emerge more fully than they could on their own.

The indifferent latte remains, for the most part, indifferent, but now has the benefit of reminding him of Sakaeguchi with every sip, and perhaps that's what the goofball meant by the design on top making it taste better. A brief touch to the tip of his tongue to remind of something good.

He stops at the corner on his way back, examines the beige wall of the small office building and the slightly sad fern in one of the windows. There's absolutely nothing special about it, nor about the slightly elderly sidewalk with a little grass poking bravely up from the cracks, and yet it is special to him now.

_I want more of that._

With Haruna, they’d spent most of their time together in his room. With others that he’d dated, even though they’d gone out more (easier, safer that way, really), there was rarely such a strong feeling of connection to them OR to the restaurants and movie theatres and other street corners they’d met at. He’s never really received gifts from anybody, not that he’d wanted them, and he’s not particularly one for taking selfies with significant others. But now... Now, stupid mementos seem appealing.

 _Fuck_.

He stands there for a moment longer, drinking the latte. _I should've kissed him here._ He looks off down the street Sakaeguchi had left on. _How far? Next block, or did he have to walk for a long time? On this street, or a side street? I should have walked him home, at least. Then I could—_

_Then I could what?_

_What have I got to offer him except more false starts?_

Abe grates out a frustrated noise and starts walking again.

There are aunties and uncles and grandparents to be visited, and he quickly starts tuning out his own vague answers to the question “How have you been, lately?” because nobody really cares, anyway. He has his own business, he doesn’t get into trouble, he’s successful enough to not be of interest. He DOES have to field several iterations of “And when are you going to make your mother a grandmother already?” and threats to introduce him to eligible young women that they know. Abe tries to hide his shudder and politely declines. He’s been on those dates—frightfully awkward for the most part, and mostly served to demonstrate to him how little romantic interest he had in women. Since he also didn’t seem particularly likely to settle down with a guy, though, he’s occasionally considered trying to find someone palatable to marry, if only to keep his family off his back and perhaps have a friend to come home to at the end of the day. Once or twice, he’s almost regretted breaking things off with Shinooka. She would have been a great companion, and perhaps they could’ve worked something out eventually. It’s not like it would be the first marriage like that.

But now...

Now, he has ugly, inconvenient hope, and a gaping pit of _want_ opening up inside him. Wonderful and terrifying all at once. He knows damn well that not everyone is looking for that, that for many it's a nuisance, an inconvenience. Admittedly, he’s guilty of treating his own feelings like an inconvenience, but it’s hard not to feel that way. And he barely knows Sakaeguchi yet, has no idea if he craves that rest, that home as well. And even if someone says they do, it's no guarantee.

He can't get ahead of himself like this. That's how he ends up hurting himself, thinking too much about some goal to notice what's going on in front of his nose. And then he's left floundering to try and save his fuck-up.

Time to step back.

* * *

Sakaeguchi comes to the same realisation about not having any way to contact Abe about halfway through the walk home. He spends half a moment wondering whether if he ran, if there’s any chance he’d be able to catch up. But in the end he decides he should continue trying to be patient. _Besides, I’m sure he’s got family stuff to do…_

Instead, after sleep riddled with dreams that leave him waking up with his breath coming heavy and his fist pressed into the hollow of his hip, he makes himself spend the day cleaning. No matter how virtuously he scrubs, though, he can't escape the raw burn of his lips from Abe's stubble, the impressions of his hands that seem to linger on his skin. The thought of how they'd feel without clothing, of what he's already mapped of Abe's callused fingers and what more there is left to discover. With his own hands, with lips and teeth and tongue and oh god, _inside_ and Sakaeguchi realises he's been scrubbing the same spot on the kitchen cupboards for who knows how long.

Beet red, he crumples the cloth in his fist before dropping it to the counter. Sighing in amused resignation, he washes his hands and slinks to his bedroom guiltily.

He hasn't allowed himself this yet. At least not in full. Stray thoughts are one thing, even the glancing images that come to him of Abe smiling, Abe leaning on his desk to check something and his back and ass and legs all beautiful muscular curves, Abe arched in a stretch and untucked shirt revealing the tiniest sliver of stomach. These, this much is already enough to leave him flushed and covering his face with his free hand and whispering an insincere apology into the air.

But when he has so much now to fuel his imagination... And yet not enough to leave him anything other than wanting more…

He slides naked into bed, pulling the covers up against the chill and out of some lingering irrational fear of getting caught.

_Somewhere warm..._

> A private beach. Somewhere tropical, scents of hibiscus and magnolia swirling with the light salt breeze. A luxuriant pile of blankets and towels spread on improbably soft sand, us lying together in sunlight that feels like a gentle lover’s touch on so much bare skin.

Sakaeguchi slaps a hand over his face, a breathless chuckle slipping out. His fingers creep down, down to brush over tender skin, cup his dick and then release it.

> Or perhaps… Abe rising out of the sea like some demigod, water clinging to the angles and planes and softnesses of his body that I can still only guess at. He’d walk up the beach, exquisitely slow, wearing one of those cocky grins. Sink down, roll over me like a wave. His weight between my legs, elbows sinking into the blankets next to my shoulders. Easy smiles and soft laughter at what we both know is coming, at the pure pleasure of warm skin and kisses and nuzzling against each other. The scent of salt and sweat on Abe’s skin, salt on my tongue and in my mouth as I suck a dark bloom on his throat.
> 
> Abe shifting his weight to drag leisurely fingers down my side. Lingering dampness making them catch, ticklish but so wonderful. Fingers teasing over my dick through the thin material of my swimsuit…

But nothing to blunt the delicious slide of his own hand.

> …before stealing away to lace with mine where they’d been straying up to skim the shallow curve of his side. Abe rolling to the side, tugging me along with him and his leg coming up to hook around my hips and god, the feel of those thighs around me, it’d be…

Sakaeguchi inhales and exhales shakily, drawing one knee up to give himself more room under the blanket.

> Moving together with thick slowness, breathless with lazy afternoon heat and quick kisses. Abe’s hand trailing down my bare back to squeeze and knead my ass, his leg sliding down until his heel presses between my calves. The feel of his shaft sliding against my own, tip nudging my stomach with its gorgeous firmness. Dragging my hand down Abe’s chest to feel him, stroke him loosely and Abe quiet, so quiet like he had been in the softness of the pine grove or perhaps privacy and familiarity drawing new sounds from him.
> 
> I pull down the front of his trunks, getting a hand on him. I find his eyes and cup his cheek to draw him in for another kiss as I jerk him off. Abe pulling me closer, his leg slipping back up and a quick jerk of his hips and then my dick sliding under the plushness of his ass and _oh god, will you let me?_
> 
> Improbable lube somehow in my hand and Abe’s swimsuit gone and blissful slickness everywhere and fuck, I could just grind against him until I came, I wouldn’t even care, but no, no, Abe pushing on my shoulder, rolling me on my back and coming up, up like the sun rising above me. Both of us with our breath coming fast and my fingers in his ass and his own dragging down my cheek and then pushing between my lips, oh shit Abe fucking my mouth like that while he takes my dick, while I thrust up into him and he curls over me so close, so close. Our lips a mess of kisses and each others’ names and gasped demands for _more, harder, again,_ Abe stretching up above me in the sunlight, arched back with his hands braced on my legs and my hands on his thighs, feel them work, feel him fucking himself on me, feel—

In the solitary dimness of his bed, Sakaeguchi chokes back all sound, stickiness smearing his fingers and stomach.

He catches his breath, eyes still shut and his free hand still with the blankets twisted against his chest. And then hauling it up to cover his face. _Oh my god, how am I supposed to look him in the eye?_

_How is it that I don’t feel the least bit sated, I only want you more?_

Feeling very silly now, he cleans up and dresses again and firmly makes himself go back to work.

There are, of course, those last few boxes that always end up tucked into a corner instead of unpacked, plus phoning his friends back home to catch up. Cooking, Skyping with his siblings. Wakako’s date went incredibly haywire, but from the way she smiles and giggles about it, the person she was with made that fun. She shows him a painting she’s been working on and a few character sketches too (one of which looks oddly reminiscent of a certain dark-eyed man who has haunted his thoughts of late, though he decides not to comment). Tells him about the name of an editor she got from a friend of a friend and that she sent off her portfolio and a letter and hopes she’ll hear back.

It’s not like she ever fully lost these little flashes of vibrancy. They were always there, even at her worst, and like everyone else in the family, like the mother who stoically hid the pain in her stomach until it was too late, she was always good at pretending in front of strangers. But there was a dullness to the flashes, else a frenzied need to it, the kind of sharp brightness that kept her up until five in the morning working on something that she would tear up, stony-faced, after she finally slept.

One of the boxes Sakaeguchi unpacks has a few of those manuscripts, carefully rescued from the recycling and taped back together in case she ever wants them.

She scared them back then, with the fire that had always kept her strong for them, that rose flame at her core, burning through her thin flesh and her dark-circled eyes. But this, now, Wakako clear and energetic and relaxed seeming, it comforts him.

“I wish I could hug you,” he tells her, out of the blue.

“Eh?”

“Next time you visit, or I’m there, I’m giving you a huge hug, just so you know. I love you.” His smile goes from tender to teasing. “You’re my faaaaaaavourite sister.”

“I’m your _only_ sister. You’re my _second_ favourite brother.” Thornless roses.

He shrugs, laughing. “At least I’m on the list!” Wakako snickers, then takes the laptop with her to the kitchen to make tea, showing off her new kettle.

He tells her about _his_ New Year’s, too, now that the dam has been broken on the Abe issue, drops his head on his arms and groans about hot young men in kimono and making out and perfect nights (except no picturesque snow) and missing phone numbers. She laughs at him, motions like she was patting his head, gives him advice that is nothing he doesn’t already know, and asks him if he’s going to tell Yuki about this one.

He grimaces. “We’ll have to wait and see what, if anything, ‘this one’ turns into.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile. “We’ve all been there."

"I don't _wanna_ be 'there'! I wanna be making out with cute boys!"

Wakako snickers at his whining. " _Very_ attractive. You're _sure_ to snag him that way!"

"Shush, you. I’m a _very_ appealing young man!”

"Suuuuuure you are!" He threatens to close the computer on her.

* * *

When Sakaeguchi reopens on the fourth, he has so much to check and maintain that it’s already after eleven by the time he even thinks of going to the café. But a sudden shyness hits him, keeps him there standing behind his counter with his hands curled on the pad of cellophane sheets. _I’m already late, and... I don’t want to overwhelm him. Perhaps I should give him some space? He’s probably busy, today, too..._

He misses the perk-up of the mid-morning latte and banter, ends up lying across his front counter pathetically in the mid-afternoon lull. _I miss ABE, is what._ He grumbles, folding his arms and rubbing his face against them, then smiles. _Tomorrow. And I’ll get his number. Maybe smooch him again if it seems okay._ Sakaeguchi sighs, and bounces to his feet, beaming at the plants.

He runs into Suyama on the train ride home. “Ah! I ought to have dropped by, said hi!”

Suyama waves him off with a smile. “Nah, don’t worry about it! I was pretty busy, today. I’m sure you were, too.”

“Yeah, for most of the day. I have no excuse in the afternoon. I was busy...” he’s started the sentence, he might as well finish it already, “mooning over a boy.”

Suyama’s eyebrows go up, and he smiles in a way that still makes Sakaeguchi’s heart leap. “Oh? I _see_. This boy wouldn’t happen to be tall and grumpy and like making you drinks, would he?”

Sakaeguchi blinks back at him, then sighs. “It’s that obvious?”

“Well, if we’re coming clean here, I kind of introduced you to him hoping...” He laughs at Sakaeguchi’s piqued expression.

“You...!” He punches Suyama’s shoulder but laughs as well, though part of him wonders _were you trying to fob me off on him, then? Fair enough, I suppose..._ “Weren’t there any other _friendlier_ queers in the area you could’ve inflicted on me?”

Suyama holds up his hands placatingly. “Not that I know of. And anyway, not like I knew you that well by then, but... I felt like you’d be good for each other.”

Sakaeguchi can’t help asking, “Oh? And now?”

Suyama’s smile is painfully warm. “Now... I don’t think I’ve seen him as happy as he is when he talks about you.”

“He talks about me?” he blurts out. Suyama laughs at him, clapping him on the shoulder while he covers his face in an agony of embarrassed delight.

“He keeps asking me stuff about you, DESPITE the fact that I tell him every time, ‘You probably know more than me at this point.’ Are you guys dating, now, then? Can I look forward to him just asking _you_ from now on?”

“No, we’re not exactly...” Sakaeguchi’s still caught on the idea of Abe plumbing Suyama for information on him. “But we kissed! On New Year’s Eve, no less. It was maaaaaagical!” He presses his gloved hands to his cheeks, sighing, swinging back and forth happily, prompting another snicker from Suyama. “But then I didn’t go see him today... Crap, is that bad? Did I mess up??”

“I don’t know! I’m not some kind of expert! I’m sure it’ll be fine, though. You guys don’t need to be in any hurry.”

Sakaeguchi makes a sullen face. “I don’t WANT to be patient, though! Ahhh, damnit, why didn’t I go??”

Suyama pats his head consolingly. “Just go tomorrow. Everything will be all right.”

“I hope you’re right.” He sighs again, then grins at Suyama. “Well, since we’re on the subject of cute young men, did you do anything special for New Year’s?”

Suyama smiles shyly, flushing a little. “Well...”

* * *

 

               [07:42pm]  
               [To: kou-chan]  
               [From: Grumpy Fuckhead <3]  
               [Subject: So he never came in?]  
               [Not even later on?]

 

[07:45pm]  
[From: kou-chan]  
[Subject: GEE IZUMI]  
[HOW WAS YOUR BREAK?  
OH LOVELY THANKS I HAD A FANTASTIC  
TIME ~NOT~ TALKING ABOUT ABE TAKAYAS  
EMOTIONAL CONSTIPATION FOR FIVE MINUTES  
I HOPE TO DO IT AGAIN SOMETIME]

 

[07:45pm]  
[From: kou-chan]  
[Subject: srsly tho stop fussing]  
[shouldnt you be getting ready for bed old man?  
he didnt come in so what? maybe he’s still closed  
maybe he was busy don’t get ahead of yourself]

 

[07:46pm]  
[From: kou-chan]  
[Subject: B)]  
[maybe youre THAT BAD of a kisser]

 

                [07:47pm]  
               [From: Grumpy Fuckhead <3]  
               [Subject: SCREW YOU.]  
               [No, actually, that’s all I have to say.]

 

[07:48pm]  
[From: kou-chan]  
[Subject: care to prove me wrong? U3U]  
[no but seriously chill out  
youd better not be stomping around your apartment  
youre gonna piss off the neighbours again  
do i have to come over there and sit on you]

 

               [07:50pm]  
               [From: Grumpy Fuckhead <3]  
               [Subject: No. Go die.]  
               [I’m not “stomping around”. Don’t come over.]

 

[07:50pm]  
[From: kou-chan]  
[Subject: hmm]  
[sounds like something a stompy asshole would say to ME]

 

               [07:51pm]  
               [From: Grumpy Fuckhead <3]  
               [Subject: Re: hmm]  
               [If you’re not gonna say anything useful then please piss off.]

 

[07:52pm]  
[From: kou-chan]  
[Subject: always a pleasure talking with you B/]  
[okay but just calm down and don’t assume weird shit  
maybe he just had a bad hair day and didn’t want you to  
see him looking anything less than his usual adorable lil self  
just talk to him tomorrow]

 

               [07:54pm]  
               [From: Grumpy Fuckhead <3]  
               [Subject: You’re a peach yourself.]  
               [I guess there’s literally nothing I can do right now, so I might as well just sleep on it. I’ll see you later, then.]

 

[07:55pm]  
[From: kou-chan]  
[Subject: U3U <i like that one]  
[sweet dreams asshole prince  
may ur night be haunted by goofy florists kissin ur grouchy face]

* * *

 

Perhaps Abe dreams of him and perhaps he does not, but he _certainly_ does not sleep well and arrives at work out-of-sorts. Tajima’s late with the delivery again, and his rambunctious antics, usually charming when Abe’s in a good mood, just make him want to strangle the kid. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he’d feel bad if he was responsible for cutting short such a promising career and shuts himself in the office with a tight advisement that perhaps no one should come in for a little while.

He absorbs himself in dealing with some end-of-year paperwork, tidies the desk and does some cleaning, reorganises the supply closet, and then realises he has no idea what time it is.

11:26.

 _Fuck_.

He bursts out, sprinting into the café proper, unsure what he's hoping to see. There, in one of the little vases set on the bar, is a single rose. A soft lemony yellow, except for the edges of the petals which are a fiery red.

_DOES THAT MEAN SOMETHING???_

He takes a deep breath, then catches the eye of Okuda, jerking his head towards it. “He came in?”

“Mm? Oh, yeah! Just brought the one. I still made his latte, I...I hope that was okay...?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replies absently, staring at the bloom before whirling and returning to the back office. He’s already leaning on the desk, opening a browser window before he’s entirely processed what he’s doing, gets as far as typing ‘yellow rose red edge meaning’ into the search bar, then shuts the window. Pushing away from the desk, he stares out into the back alley, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

His eyes drop to the dwarf rose, which, after much (somewhat sulky) consideration, he had decided to keep in the office after all. It does make the space feel cheerier, although if he’s honest he preferred the crocuses, even if they weren’t as lasting. _But they came from his garden._

_I wish it was our garden._

Abe makes a frustrated noise, rubbing his face viciously. _No, you can’t think shit like that. A fucking kiss doesn't mean..._ His brain keeps helpfully reminding him of Izumi’s offhand comment that Sakaeguchi was flirtatious with Suyama too. And when he’d alluded to it with Suyama, he’d laughed, looked embarrassed, but confirmed. _Even if. Even if he’s actually flirting with me, even if he wants to be involved, even if I’m not just a consolation prize since Suyama’s taken... I can’t assume he’s the type to want something like that. Or at least not with me._

_And even if he did, what then?_

Abe’s lived with roommates before. Some good, some adequate, none bad, but at the same time he’s glad now to have his space to himself. Except for moments like this when he ends up staring wistfully into space and thinking about words like _family_ and _home_ and _belonging_. Imagining Sakaeguchi waiting for him in his modest one-bedroom apartment, or, he supposes, it’d be _him_ waiting for Sakaeguchi. Perhaps he’d come in to wake Abe from an afternoon nap, sit on the side of the bed and splay his hand on his chest, perhaps give him a kiss, tell him about all the funny people who’d come into his shop that day, ask him what he’d done, what he’d like to do, all the little things and the big things too.

Sakaeguchi must have dreams of his own. And perhaps they’d have room in them for one Abe Takaya. His have more than enough room for a Sakaeguchi Yuuto, he fits perfectly into those pictures Abe calls up when he thinks ten years from now, twenty, hell, fifty. And it’s not like that hasn’t ever been true for others, but where they had taken up too much space or too little or just somehow clashed, Sakaeguchi seems just right, and, what’s more, seems to open up new images, thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain, whole rooms, houses, cities of dreams that he had never considered before.

And it’s terrifying, because however solid Sakaeguchi might seem in those images, he could easily disappear, crumble to dust, turn out to be just a trick of the light, and all those rooms and houses and cities would collapse in on themselves with a great rumble and crash and leave Abe alone in a darkened room with tears in his eyes and a warm body pressed close against his side but infinitely far away and the taste of shame bitter in the back of his throat.

Resolutely, he turns back to the computer, opens another window, and types in _yellow rose meaning_. He looks at a few different results, just to be sure, but the only other options seem unlikely.

Friendship.

Abe clenches his jaw, resting his hands on the desk for a long while. _I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by that. He was probably just caught up in the moment. And I couldn’t even.._. He grits out a frustrated noise, then pushes away, taking a moment to collect himself before he gets back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding the texts: in later chapters I used a format more resembling Line or iMessage texting, and while I considered coming back and altering these earlier ones to match, it occurs to me that for people Abe has known for longer using mail-style texts makes a bit more sense. It also allowed me to keep the way Izumi has Abe entered in his phone, which is Very Important. B)
> 
> Pine: A shitty pun but also hope.


	6. Purple Columbine

Sakaeguchi swallows his disappointment as best he can when Abe’s not up front, tries not to take it personally, not assume that Abe’s avoiding him. _It’s just one day. He’s allowed to be busy for one day!_

_But ~I~ want to see him! It’s been day! Waaaaay too long! How can he stand it? Unless...?_

He shakes his head, goes back to washing dishes, trying to focus on the task at hand. But it's boring, and his mind wanders. Even if he can put aside worries over whether Abe actually wants him, little thoughts keep intruding. What it would be like to turn around and find Abe lounging on the couch, to talk with him while he finished up, dry his hands, and go sit beside him with his head on his shoulder and look out the window over his little garden boxes like two very dull, very happy old men. Maybe he'd be able to get more stories out of Abe about his past. Maybe he'd be able to get _that_ story out of him.

Sakaeguchi knows he has an almost pathological need to help people, and he knows that Abe doesn't necessarily need or _want_ help, and even if he did, Sakaeguchi also knows he’s nothing special, Abe doesn't necessarily need _him_ to save him, but just the same...

Just the same, when Abe had lain on his lap, there had been a tension all through his body that went beyond not wanting to fall half a meter.

_Where are you afraid of falling?_

_I want you to lose that tension, I want you not to fear that drop, because I want you to know I'll be waiting there at the bottom._

Which, of course, leaves him with the mental image of trying to catch a falling Abe, and he chuckles to himself. _Well, I'd try my best, but he is awfully large..._ Sakaeguchi frowns down at a particularly stubborn bit of stuck-on food. _You know what? I don’t care. Even if it's selfish, even if it's arrogant, I want it to be me that's there to catch you._

He gives a determined nod to the picture he's hung over the sink, an acrylic of the view out a window over a large flower garden that Wakako had painted for him when he first moved out. He can't help thinking about the sketch she'd shown him that looked suspiciously like Abe, and wonders whether he could get her to add in a little silhouette—perhaps just there, next to the magnolia tree, watering the flowers or maybe waving back at him...

 _Or maybe I could just get her to paint "creepy weirdo" on my forehead, that’d be more direct. I mean, I like to hope there's a chance I'll be able to bring Abe back here at some point, and even if he seems pretty oblivious, there's a limit... Ah, well, I'll just have to imagine him there. And maybe, someday, make him part of the real thing._ Sakaeguchi smiles giddily, cheeks warm.

He resolves to bring flowers the next day, too. Though whether to bring another of the same, try and catch Abe so he could explain... Honestly, he'd been relieved that Abe wasn't there, that he hadn't had to speak the words aloud. _Oh god, what if he looks it up?? Why did I do that?? Friendship turning into love??? You're gonna send him running for the hills!_ Sakaeguchi sighs heavily, draining and rinsing the sink.

Well, it’s not exactly like there are any flowers that say “I really like you but I know that it’s far too early to be pulling out words like love but I’m pretty certain if we dated for a while I would for sure fall in love with you like really hard so let’s make out”.

_That bouquet would be huge._

* * *

 

He dithers for a long time over his flower choice, at the last moment deciding on a more safe assortment of orange-red dahlias. Heart in his mouth, he walks across the short stretch of paving stones and enters the café.

Abe leans against the back counter, hands gripping the edge, looking stiff and tired and despite the angle of his body, somehow still managing to loom over the young man on cash. And despite all _that_ , still looking impossibly gorgeous.

Normally, he’d lose some of that tension as soon as he saw Sakaeguchi. Normally, he’d grin and push off to lean across the counter, close enough that Sakaeguchi could bend forward and kiss him if he wanted. But not today. Today, his hands clench, as though he’s holding on, trying to keep himself up, eyebrows twitching together slightly, wide mouth set in a carefully neutral line.

Sakaeguchi smiles in a way that he knows is stiff and uncomfortable, but he can’t seem to muster anything brighter when his eyes are taking in every little sign of unexplained distress on Abe’s body. “Hi, I, ah...I brought some flowers...”

“No shit.” Even Abe seems taken aback by his own tone, though he doesn’t apologise, just glances away.

 _The heck did I do??_ “They’re dahlias.” _Wait...is he actually upset about the kiss? Crap crap crap_. He can feel his smile pulling tighter and tighter. “They’re for,” his mouth feels suddenly dry, “good taste and grace.” It had seemed like a compliment, before, but now it feels creepy, especially with the way Abe’s face pinches tight around the eyes and lips, the careful, careful breath he inhales.

“Yeah, I remember. Thank you. They’re lovely.” His gruff monotone conveys a very different opinion, but Abe still takes them from him, turning quickly to take them to the sink. Sakaeguchi shoves his now-unoccupied hands into his pockets, face flashing through a worried frown before he makes himself try for a natural smile.

“Ah, Abe?”

“Mm.”

He pulls his hands out of his pockets, goes to take off a glove, thinks better of it, and slips them back into his pockets again. “It’s okay...about the latte, for today. Don’t...don't worry about it.”

Abe doesn’t respond, just nods his head curtly. Sakaeguchi swallows, nods once as if to himself, then turns on his heel and leaves hurriedly.

The shop is cold, the hum of the fridges too loud, the fluorescent lights that normally seem soft and cheery today seem too bright, and so he flees to the darkness of the back room, crouching on the floor and pulling his coat over his head. _I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I should’ve just let him kiss me, and left it at that. I shouldn't've let him kiss me at all. I shouldn’t’ve made us sit down together. I shouldn’t’ve just waltzed along with his family like that. Like I have some kind of right to barge into his life and make myself at home._

He releases a slow breath into his hands, pressed over his face. _Gotta get back out there. There are things I should see to_. He drags his hands down his face, then pulls his knees up towards his chest. _I should go._

_I should be used to these fuck-ups by now._

His mouth pulls down at the corners, trembles for a moment, then settles into a tense, unhappy line. _I am. Roll with the punches. Pick yourself back up again, dust yourself off, and keep walking. Otherwise, there’s no chance you’ll come across the next good thing._

_I don’t want the next good thing. I want him._

_Not going to get him sitting on my butt in the dark._

Heaving a deep sigh, he pushes himself to his feet, exchanging his coat for his apron. He grimaces an exaggerated smile into the darkness, then lets his face relax, settle into something more naturally pleasant, before finally turning and heading back into the shop proper.

* * *

He spends a lot of time wondering about whether to go to the café the next day. Walking over to his coat, pulling it on, taking it off again, walking to the door, walking back, and just generally fussing and fidgeting like a child. But he doesn’t go. Not that day, nor the one after that. Abe seems like the type to ‘need space’, and if he’s honest, he doesn’t want to plunge back in again when he’s still not entirely sure what he’s done. He just keeps running circles inside his head, wishing he knew what Abe wanted, wishing he would _tell_ him what was wrong, wishing he could just step around all the built-up crap in the front lawn of Abe’s heart and come in the front door already.

But instead, he just pines away. Which he can stand for about another day before he flees the confines of his shop and wanders down the alley to Suyama’s to whine about it.

He pushes through the door with a plaintive, “Suyaaaamaaaaaa...!” that turns into a quiet, “Oh...”

Suyama has the tall man, who he now assumes he had correctly identified as ‘Hanai’, backed up against the counter. Hanai’s panting slightly, perhaps from whatever exertion had made him roll up his shirtsleeves (revealing nicely muscled arms), or perhaps from the enthusiastic way Suyama was kissing him, hips pinning him, hands splayed tensely on his sides in a way that makes a little tendril of jealousy curl in Sakaeguchi’s stomach. He steadfastly ignores it.

“Ah! Sorry for interrupting, I’ll...”

“No, that’s quite alr— Ah... You two ought to meet, anyway...”

Sakaeguchi finds his first impression of Hanai as imposing being quickly replaced by the charmingly frantic way he fumbles to straighten his (quite fashionable) glasses, blushing brightly and avoiding his eyes. He can’t blame him, since Suyama hasn’t really backed up; _he'd_ still be pretty flustered, too. Seeming to come to the same realisation, Suyama leans in to kiss the corner of Hanai’s mouth, then steps back, turning towards Sakaeguchi. “This’s Hanai, who I’ve told you about. This is Sakaeguchi, the florist from around the corner.”

 _Oh? Not ‘Who I’ve also told you about’?_ He can’t help feeling a little sulky about it, but shrugs off the feeling as best he can.

“Pleased to meet you!” He ducks his head in a friendly fashion, and Hanai does the same, echoing his greeting. He seems a bit more capable of looking at him now, and Sakaeguchi meets his eyes with what he hopes is a pleasant, open regard. He’s handsome, for sure, and he can’t really feel bad about losing out to him (not that he assumes he had much of a chance in the first place).

"Now, what was it you came in here wailing my name so pathetically for?"

Sakaeguchi brings a hand in front of his face, blushing brighter, but sighs and makes himself take it away, smiling self-deprecatingly. "What do you think?"

"Abe?"

Sakaeguchi just nods sadly. "Really, I was just here to whine about it, though, so," he waves his hands in front of himself, "so I won't... I don't want to interrupt with someth—"

"Oh, we were just putting out some new stock! You didn't interrupt anyth—"

"He kind of did!"

Sakaeguchi can’t help giggling at Hanai’s indignance. His voice is pleasing, and has the resonance of someone who’s learned to project when he’s pissed off. Hanai scowls over at him, so he bends forward in a deep bow. “I am _deeply_ sorry for arriving unannounced. I’ll start wailing from further away, next time.”

He laughs at that, at least. “I guess we probably shouldn’t be doing stuff like that in here, anyway...”

Sakaeguchi straightens, smiling mischievously. “Well, really, what good is owning your own shop, if you can’t indulge in the occasional make-out session?” He glances around the stacks. “ _You_ , at least, have more places to hide... I’d advise  _not_ against the front counter in future.”

Hanai flushes again, covering his face, laughing sheepishly; Suyama pulls his head against his shoulder in a consoling gesture. “Point taken. We’ll be more...subtle, next time.”

“Won’t  _be_ a next time,” Hanai grumbles into Suyama’s shirt, though he doesn’t sound particularly sure.

Suyama chuckles, releasing him, then turns back to Sakaeguchi. “Well, you have the privacy of two shops between you. So what’s the problem?”

Sakaeguchi sighs exaggeratedly. “I... He’s mad about something. I think about the kiss, but I don’t know why. I...I haven’t even had an opportunity to  _do_ anything else!” He covers his face, groaning out a frustrated noise while Suyama laughs at him. “So I haven’t been back in days. Shoot, is that worse? Help!”

Suyama steps over to pat him consolingly on the shoulder; Hanai picks up a box (that looks like it might’ve been dropped in a hurry) and brings it over to the window. “Well, hard to tell. Sometimes, it’s best to just let that guy simmer down, but... Don’t avoid him forever, okay?”

“I don’t intend to! I don’t give up that easy.”

“Well, good.” Suyama smiles at him. “But I don’t know if I can help you with the why. He didn’t say anything to me about it the past couple of times I’ve seen him. Though he did seem spectacularly pissed off... Whatever you did, you sure messed up bad!”

“Shou— Suyama, stop trying to comfort him!”

“ _Please_.” Sakaeguchi exchanges a wry grin with Hanai.

“Okay! Fine!” He gives Sakaeguchi a sympathetic grimace. “Of course, I’m always willing to lend you an ear, and...if you ever think of something I can do, feel free to let me know, but...”

Sakaeguchi waves him off. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m just whiny, and—” Something occurs to him, though he considers for a long moment before he asks. “Do you know the bakery he buys from?”

“Eh?” Suyama gives him a startled look, then frowns thoughtfully. “I think..." and then, with an accent that is unfairly good, tells him, "Le Petit Roitelet."

Trying his best not to wonder how much French Suyama might have at his disposal, Sakaeguchi’s already pulling out his phone, opening up maps and typing in the name. It shows up a bakery a train stop or two from where he lives. Raising his eyebrows, he smiles at Suyama. “Found it! Thanks.”

Suyama frowns at him. "Why'd you want it, anyway?"

"Oh, just something I kept meaning to ask someone," he lies blithely, "Their stuff is so good! Have you been there, Hanai?"

Hanai looks over at him, startled. “Eh? Me?? No. Or...the café?” Sakaeguchi nods encouragingly. _Definitely_ not such an imposing man after all. “Yeah, they’re pretty good...” Sakaeguchi beams at him, and Hanai gives him a somewhat perplexed look, though he smiles back tensely.

Beginning to feel like he’s _well_ overstayed his welcome, Sakaeguchi inhales, stepping towards the door. “Well. I suppose I had better get back...”

“Ah, don’t feel you—”

“No, no!” He waves Suyama off. “Perhaps we should _plan_ to spend some time together.”

Suyama chuckles, and Hanai’s expression softens, and he takes half a step towards him. “Sure.”

_So...not unfriendly by any means, just perhaps not fond of surprises.  
_

After some more vague noises about making plans, he heads back to the shop. About halfway there, he bursts out laughing, cheeks flushed. _Damn...I hope you know how lucky you are, Hanai!  
_

_Well, I'll just have to make my own luck with Abe!_

* * *

He decides on something personal but not overwhelming. Some basil from the pot on the kitchen counter, because (if he doesn’t reveal all of its meanings) it’s friendly and safe and also now he's pretty certain those crocuses  _had_ ended up in that back room where Abe spent much of his time on purpose. When he allows himself (not for the first time) to sneak around the corner when he takes out the trash, he sees that his birthday present is doing nicely there (although he wonders whether it's good or bad that Abe ended up keeping it at the café). Sakaeguchi hums to himself as he bustles around the shop, feeling hopeful.

After he's been at work for a while, he looks up from perusing a nursery's catalogue to see a figure he thinks he recognises examining the buckets of greens outside.

Clad in a sharp, short iron-grey trench coat, slim black jeans, and cozy-looking calf-high laced boots, Abe-san adjusts her cream scarf with leather gloves, frowning in a familiar way.

Sakaeguchi ducks his head, hoping she hadn’t noticed his eyes on her. _What is she doing here?? I mean, obviously looking at flowers, but why???_ He stares wide-eyed at the catalogue, but it just continues to have cheery information on popular miniature fruit trees, nothing helpful about dealing with other people’s mothers. _Is it because of the kiss? Am I in trouble??_

He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he’s in his thirties and most likely so is Abe, and neither of them are about to get grounded for smooching anyone. Sakaeguchi smiles to himself and looks up, just in time to hear the door open. He’s able to beam over and start into a standard greeting before pulling off what he hopes is a seamlessly faked moment of recognition. “Ah! Abe-san! You’ve decided to come all this way and grace my shop with your presence.”

She laughs politely, hand in front of her mouth, looking around with interest. “Hello, Sakaeguchi-kun! I was bringing something to Taka and I thought I would drop by, see what you've got.”

“Ah, yes, well...” He starts to come around to the other side of the counter but stops when she steps quickly over, one hand coming up to rest on the counter’s edge as she peers down at the catalogue.

“Is that Smile Valley? Thinking of getting in new stock?”

“Yeah! Yeah, the potted plants have done a bit better than I’d expected so I thought I would try getting a wider variety...” She’s frowning down at it disapprovingly; Sakaeguchi can feel his smile tensing.

“Have you seen much of their product?" He shakes his head, opening his mouth to answer, but she plunges on. "Their stuff _looks_ good, and they’ve got a wide selection, but it often arrives beat-up, and _don’t_ bother with their roses, they always show up already diseased.”

“Is that so...”

“And why are you ordering from so far off when there are plenty of nurseries near here?”

“Ah, that is...”

She jabs a finger at his chest. “Shouldn’t you be supporting local businesses?”

“Well, I...I haven’t had a chance to go tour any of them, and...” Sakaeguchi’s not sure whether to be relieved or frightened at this unexpected tack in the conversation. “The company just sent me the catalogue, I haven’t ordered from them bef—”

“Well, _don’t_ ,” she pronounces with a definitive sweep of her hand.

Sakaeguchi stares at her for a solid minute, taken aback, before bursting out laughing, leaning on the counter. When he looks up, Abe-san is looking at him with a bemusedly inquisitive face.

“Just...I can see where he gets it from,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the café. She smiles at him, and Sakaeguchi starts to relax. Though he’s still wary of the sharply analytic glint in her eyes. _She’s definitely not just here for flowers. But I might as well try and make friends._ “Well, if Abe-san is more familiar with local nurseries, then perhaps some advice could be given...? I think I have...” He steps over to rummage around in one of the drawers under the counter, then finally hauls out a map of the area. “Here! If there are places that could be considered better...?”

She examines the map for a second, then points to a street corner. “This place. They’re good for cut flowers, though nothing too exotic—I don’t know where you’re getting yours, and they’re perfectly lovely, but I thought I’d point them out anyway.” Sakaeguchi circles it with a highlighter and notes that down in pencil, along with the name she gives him. “And there. They’re mostly good for bulbs. Oh, but they also have nice soil for sale! Taka mentioned you have garden boxes...?” Sakaeguchi nods, noting that down too, as well as (mentally) noting the fact that Abe had mentioned such a silly detail to her. Then goes back to staring at her incredulously as she gives him information on several more businesses.

Eventually she trails off with the offer, “I could tell you a  _lot_ more about each of them, but you've already made a mess of your map... If you gave me your email...?”

Sakaeguchi waves his hands frantically, grateful as he would be for her help. “Oh, no no, this is already  _amazing!_ And surely, Abe-san must be very busy. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

She laughs, waving him off. “Actually, since Shun finally moved out, I’ve been pretty bored. My husband is a hard worker, which is wonderful, but it means I’m the only one making mess!”

He laughs politely. “Then, Abe-san stays at home?”

“Mm-hm!” She smiles proudly. “Two teenage boys were already enough of a handful without another job on top of that! Especially with the way Taka ate...” Sakaeguchi takes a second to remind himself of the hug he owes Wakako. _Make that two_. “But now, everything’s quiet. Taka comes for supper once a week, and Shun drops by on holidays, but it’s not the same by any means.”

“A little bit lonely, mm?”

“Yes.”

Sakaeguchi is watching her face carefully, and it seems like she comes to the same conclusion he does a second or two later, looking up at him and holding him with those familiar dark grey eyes. With adrenaline bursting in his chest and the feeling that he might be making a terrible mistake, Sakaeguchi swallows, then plunges forward, “Abe-san, would you like a job?”

She gazes back at him consideringly for a moment, then breaks into a charming smile. “Only if you stop calling me Abe-san!”

“I suppose I can manage that little...” He smiles, relieved. She leans forward and swats his shoulder.

“I’m saying don’t be so stiff around me, kid!”

He grins back at her, though he narrows his eyes indignantly. “I’m not a kid!”

“That’s more like it! Now, when shall I come in...?”

They straighten out the boring details, decide she’ll come in the morning after next to train, and will work two and a half days a week, allowing him to finally, _finally_ have a weekend without guilt. She’s oddly insistent about the days, though.

“Nope, it’ll have to be Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday. I have...stuff going on other days.” He’s perplexed, but has no particular opinion himself, so he accepts. And then, with a cheery wave and a bouquet in hand, Misae leaves.

Feeling suddenly resolved, Sakaeguchi discards the basil, hesitating only a moment before he picks out some of the new blooms he’s gotten in.

He marches over to the café, even though it’s a bit early. Abe isn’t in evidence when he gets there, so he stands well back from the counter, face set in a determined frown that he would be _quite_ unhappy to find out was exceptionally cute.

The girl on cash catches his eye, and he nods to her grimly, then goes back to pointedly staring into space. She finishes serving some people, then hesitantly leans across the counter to stage-whisper, “You could just go ‘round back!”

He turns pink, then bobs his head stiffly, muttering, “Thanks.” She smiles at him sympathetically.

He spares a moment to pity Abe, having his romantic disasters on view for all these kids. Then he steels his heart to be as unsympathetically forward as he can manage, and rounds the corner to stand outside the door to the office. He walks up to it, raises his hand, frown deepening, then takes a deep breath and knocks.

He’s only struck the door a couple times when it bursts open and a small whirlwind of pale hair and white clothes and the smell of sweet baking hits him in the face. The young man, not much taller than him but scrawny and somehow giving the impression of being immensely small, gapes at him, rubbing his nose and swaying a little, before stammering out, “I’m so...I’m sorry, I... Sor...”

“Ah! No, quite alright! It was an accident.” Sakaeguchi sets his hands on his shoulders, steadying him; the man’s eyes widen impossibly, and then he smiles sweetly.

“Th-thank you!” He has a feeling he knows who this is, if by nothing else than the flour and cocoa smudged on his stiff cotton jacket. _Is...this his type? Oh.._. He has a sort of wild, pathetic charm to him that Sakaeguchi doesn’t think he could match. _Well. I suppose I should console myself with knowing it didn’t work out, in the end..._

Sakaeguchi gives him a bemused smile and releases him; the man edges around him and starts down the hallway towards the back door. Sakaeguchi instantly finds his eyes gravitating towards Abe, who is seated at the desk. Without looking up from the computer spreadsheet he’s perusing, he calls absently, “Later. And wear a damn coat if you’re going out in winter!”

He hears an odd gasp, and turns to look at the young man, who teeters on one foot. Catching his balance, he whirls to call back, “I...I will! And c-coat! But in the truck, it’s...w- warm, so...” He trails off, then looks at Sakaeguchi with a start, blushing, and turns away. “B-bye!” And with that, he disappears out the back door.

“Come in, already. Don’t hover.” Abe’s commanding tone is a bit grating, until he looks back at him and sees that he doesn’t seem to have looked up yet. His stomach a messy sparkling knot, Sakaeguchi steps inside, eyeing the door uncertainly. _If I shut the door, there’s a ninety nine percent chance I’ll try to kiss him, and that...might not be the best idea, right now._ Despite the substantial part of him that thinks that sounds great, he reluctantly leaves the door open.

“Hey.”

Abe’s head jerks up. He turns in the chair, and his face does a quick progression out of a relaxed neutral into something raw that makes Sakaeguchi want to go to him immediately and pet his hair until he’ll tell him about it. But then it closes off almost instantly, becomes that awful careful neutral. “Oh. Hi.”

_At least he’s not being outright hostile today._

Sakaeguchi takes a deep breath, standing up a little straighter. “I brought you some flowers. They’re chrysanthemums again, which generally mean cheerfulness, but these,” he thrusts them out, “the red ones, they’re mostly available in the winter, and they’re special." _He doesn't. Care_. _Get to the point before he throws you out._ "They mean,” he swallows, feeling his cheeks burn, unable to look at Abe, “‘I love’.”

He shoves them at Abe, glad there’s no one around to witness this scene. After a second, Abe rises from his chair, tentatively taking the flowers from him. The second Sakaeguchi’s confident he’s got a hold on them, he releases them, stepping back quickly. With a quick incline of his head he whirls to dash back down the hallway, not stopping until he reaches the safety of his shop.

_Oh my god I said it I said it I said the damn "L" word to him he's gonna think I'm a crazy person what if I've totally misread all of this and—_

He lets himself pace back and forth waving his arms for a moment, trying to get rid of the nervous energy buzzing through him. Eventually, he gives up and puts his apron back on, and tries to absorb himself in planning out what training Misae will look like.

It works, to the point where his heart has calmed down and he feels mostly back to normal when the door to the shop opens with a whoosh of cold air.

“Welco—” He cuts off with a slightly strangled noise when he looks up to see Abe standing there, intently examining a pot full of miniature bamboo. In only a second, his heart’s back to pounding. “H-hi...”

“Hi, again.” Abe takes a few slow steps in, then quickly closes the distance to the counter, setting a cup down on it with a soft tap. He raises his chin a little, and informs the African violet, “You forgot this,” turning a little pink himself.

Sakaeguchi knows he’s grinning stupidly, and he’s not sure whether to be grateful or sorry that Abe isn’t seeing it. “Thank you. I _did_ miss your lattes.”

Abe looks up at _that_ , now definitely blushing, then looks away with a smile. “Well, then come in more,” he says, gruffly. Sakaeguchi beams at him, then, after a moment’s hesitation, takes a step back, meaning to come around the counter. Abe backs away, though, and then turns. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah, see you!” Sakaeguchi calls warmly. Abe waves over his shoulder as he goes back out into the cold.

Sakaeguchi watches him until he’s out of sight, then hugs himself, humming out a noise that’s half-delight, half-frustration. _I just have to be patient. I can do it!_ He thinks, as he often does, of how Abe’s arms had felt around him, and sighs, slouching over the counter so he can hide his face in folded arms. After a moment, he takes a breath, standing straight, then picks up the latte.

He starts to raise it to his lips and then something occurs to him. Setting it back down, he pries off the top.

In the foam and crema on top, somewhat roughed up from transport but still looking surprisingly pristine and well-formed, is a heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Purple Columbine: a resolve to win


	7. Snowdrops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What an appropriate title, considering they're in full bloom around here rn!
> 
> a warning for more dissociative-y stuff, here.

[05:38pm]  
[To: Abe Takaya]  
[From: Mom]  
[Subject: That’s good!]  
[Oh, and Taka?  
Don’t bother coming for dinner next Tuesday.  
I won’t be home to cook! ^_^]

Already feeling irritable, Abe drops his bag of take-out on the counter and stares at the text for a few minutes, face pinching into a tighter and tighter scowl. He hits the contact button viciously and then hits call. The phone rings a few times, and then his mother picks up. “Taka?”

“What the _hell_ —”

“Don’t you yell at _me_ , young man!”

He inhales deeply, swallowing several retorts, and starts again. “What’s up with the snide emoji? Where are you—”

“Oh! Yesterday, I got a job! And _I_ didn’t think it was sni—”

“What? Why?”

“Well, I’m hardly needed _here_ , now, am I? And I thought it’d be fun! Besides,” she hums a little, sounding awfully pleased with herself, “I think you’ll be haaaappy!”

Abe leans back against his counter, pushing a hand back through his hair. His mother's concept of what might make him 'happy' is frequently questionable. “They couldn’t give you shifts that _weren’t_ on my weekend? I won’t be able to see you as much...” If he’s perfectly honest, he’s bothered more by the threat to his routine than by missing an opportunity to spend time with his parents.

“Now, now, Taka, don’t be so selfish! Besides. I did it for your own good.” He can just _hear_ the finger-waggling she’s doing, and he grits his teeth. “And once I’m used to it, I’ll probably be able to come home and cook just fine! So don’t worry about your free meal.”

“I’m _not_ worried about that. _You’re_ the one who already complained I didn’t come see you enough!”

“That’s a mother’s job. Just as it is to support her children in their pursuit of love.”

Abe’s back goes ramrod straight at that. He says, intelligently, “What.” What the HELL had she gotten it in her mind to do? Misae just chuckles in response, then hums smugly. Abe considers chucking his phone across the room, but that wouldn’t get him closer to knowing, so he just bangs the cupboard door open, getting himself a glass to fill with water. “What did you do, Mom?”

“Iiiiii’m working for your florist!”

He stops dead, staring at the cupboards in front of him while his glass merrily overflows in the sink, mind working furiously to come up with _any_ explanation other than the obvious. His mother knows. She knows he's gay. How long has she known? He tries to breathe normally, makes himself shut off the water and take a drink.

“Taka?”

“Mm.”

“Nothing to say to that, or your dear, clever mother who made sure that you’d have the same weekend?”

Abe blinks, and takes another sip of water. “Thank you, oh dear, clever, _beautiful_ mother, who is perhaps presuming she knows things—”

“Taka, cut the crap. I know you’re about as interested in women as you are in goldfish. And I _saw_ the way you made googly eyes at that man when you thought no one was looking.”

“Mom!” He sets the glass down on the counter with a loud _thunk_ , then paces into the living room, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I don’t...!” He’s not even sure what denial to offer up.

“Not to mention,” she drops into a lower register, “‘We went to discuss garden boxes’. _Really_ , Taka?” She heaves out a long-suffering sigh. “I mean, I won’t lie, I was a little disappointed, but these things can’t be helped. I kept dropping hints, hoping you would finally tell your poor mama, but no, you’re too cool to talk to me about romance, even now...”

“That’s not...!” He breaks off with a frustrated grate of sound, pacing back towards the kitchen, picking up a discarded mug on the way and setting it in the sink. ‘Setting’ is perhaps an overly-gentle term for it. “If you’re so sympathetic, you should know _exactly_ why I’d keep something like that to myself! Besides, it’s none of your damn business.”

“My children’s happiness is _exactly_ my business.”

Abe grits his teeth, standing straight and stiff with his hand clenched on the edge of the sink. He tries to remind himself that she believes that, that she doesn’t know better, and finally, believes it enough to loosen his jaw. “Well. I appreciate your help.”

“You don’t sound very appreciative.”

“Mom...” He sighs, shoving his hand back through his hair. “I just got off work. I’ve had a shit day. I’m tired, and I wasn’t expecting to deal with this. Maybe we can talk about it later.”

“Okay.” Her dubious tone guarantees if he doesn’t say something about it, she’ll pester him about it before too long. He glowers and takes another sip of water.

“Wait, does Dad know, too?”

“Don’t think so.” Her voice softens. “You tell him, when you’re ready.”

He musters a half-assed smile. “Okay. I will. I’ll...talk to you soon, okay? My dinner’s getting cold.”

“Did you cook something proper, Taka, or are you—”

“Good _bye_ , Mom.”

A sigh. “Goodbye, Taka.” He starts to lower the phone, then returns it to his ear when he hears her voice again. “...kay, sweetie? I love you.” His jaw clenches, and he glares at the backsplash for a long moment. “Taka?”

He doesn’t want to say it, but it won’t do him any good to hurt her. “I love you too, Mom. Bye.”

“Bye.”

And then he’s left alone in the apartment with his world telescoping away from him. He’s not even that angry, he doesn’t understand why it’s happening now. He’s probably just hungry, just tired. Something logical, something he can fix. He picks up the takeout carton, then wrinkles his nose, dropping it back to the counter.

He can deal with this. He’s fine. He stumbles into the living room, moving his body like he’s walking through mud, and collapses on the couch. He’s a fucking adult. He’s not Mihashi, who’s fucked up and scared of his own shadow. He can deal. There’s no fucking reason why he can’t deal. And it’s fine. It’s fine if he loses another evening sitting here like a lump, paralyzed by this distance, trapped by this body that feels like it's not his own.

It’s fine, if he tells himself it’s fine often enough, loud enough, it’ll be fine. Loud enough to drown out that shit child voice in the back of his head that says it’s not.

It’s fine.

* * *

 _What kind of shirt is appropriate to meeting my...whatever I even call him now’s mother for the... third time? Who is now my employee. Where’s the damn etiquette book for_ this??

Sakaeguchi stands in still-unzipped slim charcoal-grey jeans, staring disconsolately into his drawer. He shuts it to go sigh at his closet, then returns to the drawer of t-shirts. _She seems so fancy... I wanna wear something nice. Nothing too formal, but..._ He rifles through his shirts, rejecting several that seem too boring, too inappropriate, or just...wrong, somehow. He hauls a pale chartreuse tee with a graphic of wind turbines with daisies for heads on it over his head as he crashes around the corner to the bathroom to survey himself in the mirror.

 _Cute. Wait,_ too _cute? Damn._ Off it comes, replaced with a polo shirt with muted blue-on-blue stripes. _Looks nice, but way too boring and somber_. That one ends up on the floor, too, on top of the daisies and a few other discards. _Maybe the jeans are the problem?_

He presses his lips together, then makes a noise that starts as a frustrated grumble and ends more of a whine.

Finally, he pulls on a soft orange tee with a white graphic of a fox flanked by maple boughs with crows perched on them. _Good. Wait, is a t-shirt_ too _informal???_ He dashes back to his closet, pushing aside hangers until he finds a sweater he likes. _But then you can’t see the...!_ Frowning determinedly, he hangs it back up, pushing some other sweaters aside until he finds the medium-grey herringbone waistcoat. _Open? Looks slouchy. And it..._ Undone, it looks kind of cool, but it's not particularly flattering.

And, as always, he can’t help but have the awareness that _Abe_ will see him in it, too.

Sakaeguchi buttons it up, pulling a glum face in the mirror, then nods determinedly to his reflection and goes to eat breakfast.

Misae is waiting for him when he arrives, standing primly in the same iron-grey trench, a black pleated A-line skirt peeking out, and a pair of lovely almond kitten heel pumps that still leave her significantly shorter than him, which pleases him more than he’d like to admit. _Very mature._

She also holds two cups, which he eyes with interest. “Good morning!” she says energetically.

“Good morning!”

“I thought,” she holds out one cup, “a little something to commemorate my return to the formal workforce.”

Sakaeguchi takes it with a smile, though he can’t help thinking that now he won’t have an excuse to go see Abe. “Thanks!” He raises it in salute, then takes a sip. Honey-sweetened latte, of course. _I wonder if Abe made it. Maybe I should take off the lid to see…_ He finds himself pressing his lips in a goofy smile as he unlocks the door. “Oh! I’ve got a key for you...”

“I’m sure you’ll still want to go to Taka’s place later, though.”

He pushes through the door, eyes popping open wide, hoping that the darkness of the shop will hide the flush he feels spreading across his cheeks as he goes to key off the alarm. _Partly because for a moment, I thought she was talking about his_ house.

By the time he finally turns, he’s back to smiling casually. “Well, I DO like my routine!”

She smiles back. “I’m sure!” And if there’s that keen considering look in her eyes, well, he's perfectly happy to pretend not to see. He beckons her after him into the shop, going to trade his peacoat for his apron, then looks at her.

"I guess we had better get  _you_ one, too, eh?"

"Hmm..." She reaches out, grabbing the skirt of the apron in an officious and so intensely _maternal_ way, that Sakaeguchi can't help but smile. "I could make one that was cuter than this. Don't worry about it. You don't have a logo yet, do you?"

"Oh, uh, no. I figured my sister could do one, but she's been..." He frowns down at his apron. “ _I_ think it looks very smart...”

"She drew those pictures?" Misae gestures towards the counter. Sakaeguchi nods, smiling fondly. "She's talented. Though just because someone's a skilled artist, doesn't mean they're necessarily good at design work!" she admonishes, "Especially not if she's left you waiting for...how many months, now?"

"Well, ah, I've been open for about five months, now, but I hadn't actually..." It's hard not to wilt a little when it feels like he's being interrogated at gunpoint. "There's been a lot going on for her, and I hadn't actually gotten around to asking, yet..."

"Well. _That_ won't do, young man. Ah, boss." She grins when she says it, and Sakaeguchi can’t help but smile back. “Perhaps there’s more I can take care of for you than watching the shop.”

Sakaeguchi waves her off cheerfully. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you—”

“Yuuto-san. If you intend to be in business for yourself, you had better learn to delegate.”

Her tone is severe, and Sakaeguchi can’t stop himself from narrowing his eyes with a wry smile and asking, “Just who, exactly, is the boss, here?”

Unphased, she smiles and shrugs. “I’m older than you. At any rate,” she nods back towards the door, “let’s not worry about it today. But at some point, we ought to talk over what needs to be done around here, see what I can help with.”

He nods, cheeks flushed, then turns to lead her back out into the shop proper, clearing his throat and then starting into the explanation he’s been preparing in his head for two days now.

She only laughs a little bit when he greets the plants.

* * *

He waits until well after lunch to leave for the café, until after Misae has had several chances to serve customers under his watchful eye. Finally, she shoos him off, reminding him that he’ll be close by if something comes up that she can’t handle. And so he finally sets out, carrying the fragrant handful he’d brought from his garden boxes at home.

Abe isn’t out front when he arrives, but the second Ishida claps eyes on him, she runs to the back. _That’s different! And better?_ Izumi grins at him from the bar, waving him over.

“How’s it going, Sakaeguchi-san?”

“Pretty good. Enjoying the new term?”

“Enh.” Izumi shrugs, wrinkling his nose, then entertains him with a caustic analysis of certain of his professor’s teaching styles and personal habits, having him snickering by the time Abe comes striding out of the back. Sakaeguchi glances over at him, feeling rosy and warm and just incredibly happy to see him, takes a deep breath, and turns to face him fully.

Abe looks...worn-out. But glad to see him, he thinks. Abe’s eyes drop from Sakaeguchi’s face, and he frowns slightly.

“Oh!” He holds out today’s ‘bouquet’. “These don’t look like much, but they’re...” Abe’s still staring in the general direction of his midsection. Sakaeguchi arches a curious eyebrow at him when Abe’s eyes flick back up to his face.

“Waistcoat?”

“Er, yeah...” Sakaeguchi peers down at the open front of his coat, feeling like he’s been caught out. “I...ah, your Mom...I wanted to look nice...” _Very smooth. How could I possibly have thought this looked good? I look like a pretentious tool! God, Abe’s going to—_

“Mm. It looks good.” Sakaeguchi’s left staring at him, mouth open in an almost indignant expression, cheeks flaming hot. Abe pronounces it with that same confidence, that quick nod, like it’s a definite fact that he’s stating and not a mortifying, thrilling little admission of attraction. And not like he doesn’t suppose at this point that Abe _must_ be attracted to him, but it’s quite another to actually receive a compliment from him, even if it’s on his clothes.

Sakaeguchi smooths his hands over the waistcoat, then tugs the hem down, straightening it unnecessarily. "It...you can barely see it, though..." He smiles goofily at the countertop, the nice, safe countertop that he doesn't want to kiss.

"So show it to me properly."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sakaeguchi sees Izumi sinking down with his elbows on the counter and his face in his hands and a just-barely-audible groan.

But his attention is held by Abe, and his steady, curious gaze. Again, Abe’s words are stated like they’re the most natural thing in the world, and not at _all_ like the unbearably indecent-seeming proposal they feel like. Or maybe that's just his own hunger speaking, the part of him that aches to offer Abe a private showing, perhaps without the shirt underneath. _Or at least without pants._

Sakaeguchi sets his bouquet down and shrugs his coat off, feeling perhaps the most self-conscious he's ever felt in his life. He hooks his fingers in the coat’s collar, slinging it over his shoulder and setting the other hand on his slightly cocked hip in an attempt at casualness that he does not feel. Not in any part of the body that is suddenly thrumming with nerves and thrill and the possibilities presented by Abe’s back room. _I’m pretty sure that door has a lock on—_ He resist the urge to clap both hands over his face.

Abe hums a low noise that leaves Sakaeguchi blushing even brighter than before, brighter even than the flush stealing across Abe's cheeks. Abe takes half a step towards him, one hand twitching, raising slightly, and Sakaeguchi can’t breathe, even as he sways forward a little, even as he meets Abe’s warm eyes with challenge and invitation in his own.

Time seems to hang suspended, their bodies so close and yet what feels like an infinite distance stretching between them.

 _But I’ll_ cross _it, damnit, I’ll just keep on putting one foot in front of the other until I reach you, however long it takes._

Determination doesn’t make it hurt any less when Abe turns away, though, when he retreats behind the counter and busies himself with refilling the espresso grinder.

Sakaeguchi swallows his disappointment as best he can, feeling stupid as he folds his coat over his arm. _What did I even think was gonna happen, there?_

“It’s a good waistcoat. Looks good.”

More matter-of-fact, dispassionate statements. “You said good twice.” Sakaeguchi kicks himself for the unnecessarily acerbic tone, but he’s embarrassed and goddamnit, he wants Abe to _look_ at him already.

It accomplishes that much, at least, Abe stopping with his finger on the grinder’s button and giving him a wide-eyed look that immediately closes over, goes sickeningly blank.

The scent of coffee and the whir of the machine fills the silence between them; somehow, all the kids working are in the kitchen or out bussing tables, and he can’t even say whether he’s grateful or not.

Abe looks down, stops the grinder and grabs the handle of one of the espresso filters, thwacking its contents into the garbage with a surprisingly restrained bang. “What,” Abe swallows, “what are those plants you brought.”

 _He’s trying his best. Whatever shit he’s got getting in the way, he’s trying his best. I can’t forget that._ Sakaeguchi shuts his eyes for a moment, collecting himself, and when he speaks, his voice is brighter. “Rosemary and mint.” He drops his coat over the back of a chair and scoops the sprigs up, holding them across the bar. “From my garden boxes.” Sakaeguchi’s smile is genuine enough when _that_ makes Abe look up sharply, too, just as wide-eyed this time but with that light flush returning to his cheeks, with that closed-off expression gone. “Rosemary is for fidelity, and mint represents protection and warmth of feeling.” _I really shouldn’t be snide about_ him _blushing when I’m bright red myself..._ Abe’s just staring at the spiky, twisty sprigs and the delicate serrated spear-shaped leaves, so Sakaeguchi keeps going, “They’ll be nice in the vases, but I figured you could take them home, if you want...”

Abe finally shakes himself, frowning slightly as he pours milk into a pitcher. “Why?”

Sakaeguchi raises an eyebrow at him. “To cook with...? I know they’re not normally used in Japanese cooking, but...” _I had this half-baked fantasy you might see this as an opportunity to invite me over, but_ _apparently, that's too much to ask_.

“I don’t cook.”

 _Ah_. Sakaeguchi tilts his head, giving him a perplexed look. “Then how on  _earth_ did you end up running a café...?” _I’d happily come cook for you. Not like I’m anything to write home about, but... Goddamnit, I'm giving you a_ perfect  _opening here! Would you_ take _it?_

Abe shrugs. “I can tell quality, just can’t produce it.”

“Oh.” He’s not entirely sure what else to say to that...except that perhaps now, he can get Abe back for flustering him earlier. “Well, you make delicious coffee, at least! I like yours _best_.” Sure enough, Abe’s lips curve in a smile, and Sakaeguchi grins triumphantly.

Abe pays what seems like an unnecessary amount of attention to his hands as he steams the milk, but then so does Sakaeguchi, admiring Abe’s careful control of the shift in angle as the milk level rises, the perfect, graceful bend of his wrist, and his lean, muscular forearms exposed where he’s shoved up his sweater sleeves.

Finally, Abe clears his throat, dipping his chin and grumbling out, “No one else _makes_ your lattes.” He’s still smiling, though.

 _Let’s press the advantage!_ He arches his brows, lips quirking up. “What? You think I don’t get lattes elsewhere? You saying I don’t know a good latte?”

Abe gives him a startled look, then snorts out a laugh. _That’s better._ “I suppose you must. So mine are the best?” He leans his hands on the counter, all lopsided grin, crinkly eyes, unfair gorgeous tousled hair, and an almost boyish energy to him that leaves Sakaeguchi with his heart pounding.

Sakaeguchi leans his elbows on the bar, the sharp, fresh scent of the herbs wafting past his face. _We could kiss. Right now. We could_ _just..._ kiss, _damnit_. His eyes flick down to the front of Abe’s sweater, the apron strings around his neck that are so temptingly grabbable, the bit of throat exposed by the collar of the shirt he’s wearing underneath... _I was...saying something?_ When he looks back at Abe’s face,  _his_ gaze seems to be focused...somewhere around Sakaeguchi’s own mouth. He's burning, self-consciously licking his lips before smiling. He’s trying to force himself to say  _something_ when Abe reaches a hand out, leaving Sakaeguchi with his mind gone completely blank.

But Abe just brushes one of the sprigs of rosemary. “About the... I finished...” He snatches his hand back, tipping his head down for a second, and then looks at Sakaeguchi with a determined expression. “I finished the garden boxes for here. If you still wanted to come look at them.”

Sakaeguchi stares back at him for a long moment, face frozen in what he knows is a perplexed, startled rictus, but he can’t seem to make his mouth work. _Oh shoot, he's gonna think—_

Abe pushes back from the counter, looking away. “I mean, you don’t have to—”

“No! I'd love to!” He hears snickering, and glances quickly at the door to the kitchen, catching sight of movement, if not the culprits. When he looks back, Abe’s watching him, smiling again. Sakaeguchi breathes out a relieved sigh, then smiles more naturally.  _Is this a date?? Are we going on a date???_ “Er, when should I...?”

_A date to stare at some boxes._

_I’ll take it._

“Ah...” Abe picks up the milk pitcher, frowning into it as he swirls the contents, then thunks it against the counter. “Well, with my mom...you’ve got next Tuesday-Wednesday off too, now, right?”

“Oh, ah...” Sakaeguchi’s eyes widen, and then he sends a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder, back towards the shop. _Did she do that on purpose?_ “Well, not this week, because I’ll still be training her... But after that!” _Tell me to shut down the damn shop for a week, I'd do it in a heartbeat._

“Then...what about after work, some time? If you won’t be too tired...”

“Yes, from all my strenuous staring at plants that I do.”

Abe laughs, curling forward. _It wasn’t that funny..._ “Point taken. Well, how about Thursday, then? You can whine to me about my mother.”

It’s Sakaeguchi’s turn to laugh unnecessarily. “Hey, she’s a very nice lady! I would never!” Abe wrinkles his nose, and Sakaeguchi snickers at the childish expression.

“Just wait until you’ve spent more time with her.”

“I’m sure I’ll think she’s  _just_ as lovely,” he says firmly, narrowing his eyes. “Then again, I changed my mind about _you_ , so...” He regrets the words the second they’re out of his mouth.

But Abe leans forward on the counter with an air of playful menace, purring out, “Oh? That so?”

Sakaeguchi grins back at him. “You weren’t exactly the most charming, the first time I met you.”

“But now I am?”

“Well, the most charming  _you've_ been, if still not objectively so...” Sakaeguchi says, leaning on the bar again. Abe laughs, such a rich, warm sound, and the movement of his head sending a waft of that apple-y hair product to hit Sakaeguchi’s face, filling him with the memory of Abe’s lips on his and a deep, needy ache. He grips the edge of the bar tensely, but he can feel the expression on his face, and it’s not tense, no, not at all, and he can see the softness reflected back in Abe’s eyes when he looks up, face so very, very close.

Sakaeguchi lowers his eyes for a second, then takes a quick, shallow breath, dropping the herbs on the bar, and reaches out, breaching that barrier. Abe doesn’t move, but there’s a subtle tightness to him that Sakaeguchi notes but steadfastly tries not to take personally. He brushes back a few strands of Abe’s hair, letting his fingertips graze Abe’s cheekbone on the way back, then returns his hand to the safety of the countertop.

Abe’s eyes are closed, and he stays like that a long while, but there’s a peculiar wistful little smile curving his lips. Finally, his eyelids flutter open, though he looks at Sakaeguchi’s hands, not his face. Abe sways forward a little, and Sakaeguchi’s hand twitches up, ready to stroke again, to hold, whatever Abe will allow, but then just as suddenly, Abe sways back.

Sakaeguchi inhales, unable to hold back the quick bitter smile, but turning quickly to hide it and grab his coat. When he looks back, Abe is busying himself with the espresso machine, and by the time Sakaeguchi has his coat back on and done up, Abe’s setting his drink on the bar. Sakaeguchi’s eyes narrow slightly, and his hand darts out fast enough that their fingers brush as he takes the cup, feeling somewhat mollified when Abe stops with the pads of his fingertips on Sakaeguchi’s knuckles. They both stare intently at their hands, at the latte and its pristine little heart, rather than each other’s faces. And then Abe strokes the back of his fingers, once, twice, light, hands so warm on his own and gone far, far too soon.

Sakaeguchi looks up, waiting until Abe meets his eyes. He smiles, though he lets his frustration and also his sympathy show in his eyes as he says, simply, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah.”

When he gets back to the shop, Misae gives him a questioning look, but Sakaeguchi avoids her eyes until he can get to the back and exchange his coat for his apron, exchange his glum look for a natural-enough smile. And it’s not long before he pushes away the things that had made him want to scream in favour of the giddy excitement of _we have a_ date! _Maybe. We have something resembling a date!_

Then, his only problem is not gushing at Misae about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snowdrop: new beginnings


	8. Bittersweet

_It’s not a date._

Abe keeps telling himself that, but he’s been antsy since he got up early that morning. Even worse after Sakaeguchi had come by the café, _also_ seeming worked up and extra bubbly and blushy in a way that left Abe grinning like an idiot and having to threaten to throw Izumi down a nonexistent flight of stairs to get him to stop snickering at him (it hadn’t worked).

He’d caught himself _humming_ over paperwork.

_It’s not a fucking date._

But it was something close, an opportunity to see Sakaeguchi without work hanging over their heads or the watchful eyes of patrons and insubordinate employees on them. Another chance at something like New Year’s Eve.

Abe puffs out a breath, scrubbing his hands over his face as if to hide or erase his small smile. And in their wake, the ghost of Sakaeguchi’s fingers on his cheek, the ghost of his own torn impulse. To pull him across the divide. Or to push him back, try to get through to him what a poor idea this is.

_But it’s not a date, so it doesn’t matter._

The good’s not worth it for all the crap, for all the unavoidable, embarrassing ugliness it drags up inside him. Just a waste of everyone’s time. _And me? I might feel that way about everyone, but_ he _doesn’t._

_Almost everyone._

With a deep breath, he musses his hands through his hair in irritation. Then grimaces, running to the bathroom mirror to make sure he hasn’t left it looking stupid. _Why am I getting ahead of myself? Maybe nothing will happen._ He takes a moment to splash cool water on his face, toweling himself dry and then glaring at himself in the mirror. _Just going to be a_ perfectly friendly _visit about business-related things._

_If it were, I’d have hauled them to the café to show him._

He wanders back out into the main area of the apartment, though he glances into his bedroom wistfully. _Too worked up to nap, earlier, like a little kid before a field trip._ At least he’s had a few days since coming down from the last really bad Episode had kept him up long past his accustomed bedtime. _But dwelling on that is unproductive._ And dwelling on them always seems to summon them up, like some fairytale monster. _Put it out of mind._

Abe surveys the third-floor apartment with its bland cream-coloured walls. The tidily bare balcony overlooks a parking lot and then a small park further off. A nice enough view, not that he can see much of it in the winter gloom. His furniture is sparse, well-loved, but unremarkable. Items that he’s had since his early twenties, slightly mismatched but functional, and not like he has anyone he wants to impress over that often, anyway. A few bookshelves, well-stocked with books on maths, physics, economics, and baseball, several novels, and a few sadly pristine-looking cookbooks. Comfortable. Safe. Easy.

Nothing embarrassing leaps out at him, though he does walk over and carefully adjust the door to his bedroom so it’s a bit more demurely positioned (without giving the impression that he has anything to conceal). He examines the drop cloth covering the planters and their associated mess, too, finding them satisfactory. And then finally, he adjusts the tall vase on his coffee table, a large, simple pillar of clear glass filled with some stones at the bottom and then an abundance of thin, woody stems dotted with delicate yellow six-petalled blossoms.

He sniffs them again, but they continue to just smell vaguely plant-like. Abe pulls a face and paces over to the kitchen to dig around in a cupboard until he finds some jasmine tea. It smells pleasantly floral. He scowls over at the innocent-looking flowers. _Those were_ supposed _to provide an appealing scent..._

 _I wonder, if we lived together, if you’d put flowers on our coffee table?_ He replaces the tea, shuts the cupboard door, and steps back over to the coffee table, brushing the blossoms lightly. _Would I come to take such things for granted one day, your peculiarities just an unseen part of everyday life? Or would I notice every time it changed, would I kiss your cheek and tell you ‘thanks, dear’, or something equally frightening to Izumi?_

He’s decided he’d aim for somewhere in between if the situation ever arose when he hears the buzzer. His cheeks flame as he goes to let Sakaeguchi in. He tries to get his expression under control while he takes Sakaeguchi's coat to hang up, exchanging greetings naturally enough as he takes off his shoes. The coat is warm against Abe's hands, and he has to stop himself from lingering holding it for too long.

When he turns back, Sakaeguchi is smiling tensely and looking around what he can see of the apartment; Abe can't help feeling it must be a little underwhelming, after the café, which he _had_ taken some care decorating after the renovations.

He clears his throat, gesturing down the short hall. "It's not much, but...please make yourself at home." It sounds stupid and overly-formal.

But Sakaeguchi gives him an easier smile and steps confidently past him into the living room, only pausing briefly with his hand resting on Abe's arm on the way past. He's frozen by the contact for a second, just stares after him before hurrying to follow.

Abe stops again in the doorway, though. Sakaeguchi stands in the middle of the living room, chafing his hands and peering around curiously, and Abe can't help but take advantage of the opportunity to check him out. He's wearing plain jeans that show off the lean lines of his legs and his round ass well, and a familiar blue-grey sweater that clings pleasingly to his back and shoulders but collects slouchily around his hips in a way that just begs to have someone slide their hands up inside it, push it up and reveal whether he’s got anything on underneath. Like when Abe’d stripped that other sweater off him. And realised halfway through the motion that he was doing something kind of inappropriate and panicked a little. Abe rubs his thumbs against the pads of his fingers, then shoves his hands in his pockets and leans his shoulder against the wall, feeling his flush returning.

He says the first idiot thing that comes to mind that's not an invitation to make out. "What, no waistcoat for _me?_ "

Sakaeguchi glances at him over his shoulder, startled, then holds like that, as if giving Abe a chance to admire him and the way the thin light from the windows outlines the graceful lines of his throat, the slight curve of his cheek, his fingers caught tangled together in mid-motion.

Sakaeguchi opens his mouth with an inhale like he’s going to say something. Then all in a rush, before Abe can do more than straighten slightly, Sakaeguchi whirls and closes the short distance between them and grabs the front of his shirt. His eyes are wide and the set of his mouth is tight and determined as he pushes up on his toes but oh, _oh_ , when he presses his lips against Abe’s, they’re soft, so very, very soft. Abe breathes in sharply, wasting no time getting his arms around Sakaeguchi’s waist and pulling him close, tilting his head so Sakaeguchi can stand normally. And then, and then, acting on those pent-up desires, dragging his hands down to Sakaeguchi’s hips and catching the hem of the sweater on his fingertips and pushing up, up, to feel his undershirt and the heat of his skin through the fabric and the way he shivers at Abe’s touch.

He drops his hands back to Sakaeguchi’s hips, turning him, propelling him back against the wall, Sakaeguchi twining his arms around his neck and keeping him close. Keeping him in the kiss, the hot squish and slide of delicate skin and sucking Sakaeguchi’s lower lip into his mouth and then releasing it with a gasp as hands slide, one up into his hair, the other down, down, curling around his back to press surprisingly strong fingers into his flesh closer and closer to his ass, leaving Abe groaning and arching and cupping Sakaeguchi’s face and kissing, oh, kissing, and being kissed in a way that leaves him full of fizzy, bright happiness. He slides his tongue over Sakaeguchi's lower lip, and he parts his lips invitingly, making a low noise as Abe slips his tongue in, slick against Sakaeguchi's and then pulling back to flick over the inside of his lips. More soft, low noises from Sakaeguchi, and the hand pressed to the small of Abe's back dipping down to grab his ass and he hadn’t really realised he was oh-so-carefully keeping his hips away until Sakaeguchi’s pulling them hard against his own.

Sakaeguchi tips his head back against the wall, panting out disconnected syllables, and Abe slides his thumb over the underside of his jaw, tilting his head to kiss the other side and down Sakaeguchi’s neck, back up to nuzzle behind his ear as he rocks his hips. And then, whether it’s that his brain finally catches up, or that Sakaeguchi’s incoherent noises finally resolve into something, but without any conscious thought between hearing and movement, Abe’s lurching back, snatching his hands away. Looking at the floor because he knows he’s fucked up, probably bad this time.

There’s a long, tense moment where they stand like that. He can see peripherally that Sakaeguchi has his hands on the wall as if holding himself up, chest rising and falling rapidly, and god, looking so fucking gorgeous and rumpled and he should go back, he should take him in his arms again, he shouldn’t have pushed away, he shouldn’t be feeling this right now, not here, not with Sakaeguchi, not over something so stupid as his own fucking name, ‘Takaya’ spoken with such gentle reverence, feather-light and enough to break him.

Sakaeguchi laughs, a bitter sound but honest, scrubbing his hands up over his face, then straightens. Abe breathes in, bracing himself for what comes next, for the harsh words, or crying, or impatient disregard, the whining, for the storming out, all things he’s weathered often enough. But they don’t come.

Instead, Sakaeguchi advances on him cautiously, and he thinks for half a second he’s going to try and kiss him again, but no, he just grabs Abe’s hand and pulls him over to the couch, turning him and pushing him down with a definitiveness that brooks no argument. Sakaeguchi takes up position at the other end, sitting sideways with his legs pulled up, elbows resting on his knees and arms dangling. Waiting.

After a while sitting in silence, Abe finally glances over at him. Sakaeguchi looks small and tired and impossibly far away at the other end of the couch. Like someone who doesn’t deserve this bullshit. Abe tries to breathe slowly, trying to think of some kind of apology, some kind of explanation that’s not shameful and stupid.

And then Sakaeguchi’s leaning forward, reaching out, taking his hand. Abe watches their joined hands move, come to a stop halfway across that empty space between them.

If he thinks about it, he can feel Sakaeguchi’s fingers on his, he can even turn his wrist so he’s holding his hand back, but it’s like talking to a stranger, instructions relayed to a robot, followed well enough to create the illusion of a seamless, whole organism from the outside, but fractured and distant underneath.

Except the illusion is apparently not good enough, because when he looks in Sakaeguchi’s eyes, he can tell he sees the cracks, if not what’s underneath. And he doesn’t look prepared to politely ignore them and it’s pissing him off. He thinks.

Sakaeguchi takes a breath. “Look.” His fingers squeeze Abe’s for a moment. “What’s going on? Because I feel like I can safely say there’s some attraction going on here?” The fact that it’s a question, not a statement, leaves Abe kicking himself. “But something’s got you freaked out. Is it...but it’s not your first time with a guy, right? So...”

His mind chases around in circles, lies he could probably get away with, explanations he could give, things he barely understands enough to explain anyway and the horror of having to admit that. Or perhaps it’s less circles and more like a wall forming before him, stone by stone, stones that could be set out on the ground to step on to reach this beautiful man who watches him so patiently, a patience that cuts worse than any knife, rips into him and fills him with guilt. He knows he at least owes him an explanation. And then, if he can get it all out, then Sakaeguchi will surely see how hopeless this is, how senseless, and Abe can go back to his peaceful, small, comfortable life, and Sakaeguchi can move on to someone more worth his time.

More worth the sweet way he bends forward and raises Abe’s hand to his lips.

Even the tears feel like they happen to someone else, however hot they might feel on eyelids and cheeks. Someone else’s head feel stuffed full of cotton, someone else’s cheeks flame with the shame of crying like a child in front of another grown man. Someone else’s hand comes up to cover his face, a shield, a blind, a screen, frail and unsuccessful.

There’s a tug on his hand, and then Sakaeguchi subsides with a frustrated noise. He inhales deeply, waits a moment longer, then says, “I don’t know what to do, here. Do you want me to stop touching you? Because right now, I’d really like to hold you. So. If you’d like.” Another gentle tug on his hand, an offer, a request.

He has no clue if he’d like it, he has no clue if it’d help, but it would obviously please Sakaeguchi, which would be more productive at least. And he does look so inviting, the softness of his sweater and the way he drops one of his legs off the front of the couch, open and waiting and ready and Abe instructs the stranger that is his body to fall to the side, to allow itself to be pulled down so its cheek is against Sakaeguchi’s chest, to breathe in the fresh scent of him as arms wrap around its ribs. He wants to turn, to hold Sakaeguchi, to offer comfort back, but his body seems to be done listening to him. At least the tears have stopped.

And then that wall inside him is crumbling, he’s crumbling, tension and sharpness he hadn’t been aware of incrementally collapsing into Sakaeguchi’s embrace. It’s awful, feels too uncontrolled, he doesn’t know where the pieces will fall, and he almost clenches down again, almost slams the wall back into place, because god, it's better than this.

But instead he turns with a groan and shoves his arms under Sakaeguchi’s shoulders and his nose against his sternum. _Painful, but oh god, oh god, I_ feel _it._ Sakaeguchi curls his arms tighter around him, then slips one hand up to push his fingertips up into Abe’s hair. He seems so slight under Abe’s body, and yet there’s no fragility to him, there’s hardness but none of the brittleness that Abe fears to find in himself.

Sakaeguchi’s voice seems more resonant when he’s pressed right up against his chest like this, and the sound startles Abe. “Not like you gotta tell me your whole life story, but…I think you need to talk to me about this. What’s going on?”

Abe grumbles, and, to his relief, Sakaeguchi laughs. Abe loves that, the feel of his body leaping under him, even the patronising little pat on the head that is somehow still reassuring. He kisses Sakaeguchi’s chest, then blushes, because it feels like such an assumption. _But it also feels so easy and natural and I want to do it again. Maybe he didn’t notice._ And maybe he didn’t, but whatever the case, Sakaeguchi hums a pleased noise and bends to kiss the top of his head. Feeling himself flush brighter, Abe lifts his head quickly, catching his lips. Sakaeguchi opens his mouth on a noise that’s no less needy for all its quietness, a sound that tells him there’s a flame there ready to be rekindled, pressed under Abe’s stomach. But, beyond a quick twitch in of his thighs, Sakaeguchi doesn’t push, just kisses back tenderly until Abe pulls away.

Abe adjusts his position until he’s comfortable, wedging his arms around Sakaeguchi and lying back down on his chest. _Easier to talk when you don’t have to look at their face_. “So.” He pauses, mouth open, then sighs out a laugh. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Sakaeguchi prods him in the ribs. “C’mon. Can’t help ya there.” The prod turns into a stroke, down to the small of his back and then demurely pausing before brushing back up to his shoulders and back down again. Sakaeguchi hums, then says, “Earlier. You...did I do something wrong?”

 _Yes_. “No.” _Fuck_. “I don’t know.” _Little better_.

Sakaeguchi’s tone is cautious, but his touch is firm on Abe’s back. “It just seemed like everything was fine. And then it wasn’t. So, you got overwhelmed, or...?”

Abe sighs, turning to press his face against Sakaeguchi. “Maybe? It...” _I wish I had more time to think this through. Or think of a way to get out of it._ “Something happens.” _Shit. Guess we’re doing this._ Just the same, he freezes up. Admitting this means admitting there’s something going on in his body that he doesn’t understand and can’t control. Acknowledging that to himself is already shitty enough.

Sakaeguchi chuckles. “Well, that much is obvious.” Abe raises his head to mock-glare at him, but Sakaeguchi shifts his hand to the back of his head, pushing him back down. “So—something happens. When you get turned on?”

“No!” He’s glad now they’re not looking at each other. “Ye— Not exactly. And not _just_ when I’m turned on. Happens when I’m pissed off, too—”

“Well. So it’s not so much a ‘thing that happens’ as it is your normal state of being?” This time, Abe’s glare is a little less mock, but Sakaeguchi just chuckles and then leans forward and kisses his nose.

Resentful, Abe pushes himself up to chase him for a proper kiss, then stays hanging over him a moment with their faces barely touching and all too conscious of the pleasant friction of Sakaeguchi’s jeans against his. _Oh god, I want to. I want to so fucking bad, I could scream_. With a sigh, he settles back down, now with his face pressed into the curve of Sakaeguchi’s neck. His lips twitch up, eyelids dipping low. _I’d also like to just fall asleep like this. Then we wouldn’t have to have this talk._

_Yet._

“Everything gets...far away. My body. Like it’s someone else’s. It's like everything that happens, happened to someone else, so I don't have to care. I don't have to feel it. I'm,” he swallows, "not responsible." Sakaeguchi stops petting him, hand just splayed on his shoulder blade, and Abe tries not to tense up as he waits for him to respond. It’s tough, though. The last person he’d tried to explain this to had been Mihashi, and he’d just gotten upset, blamed himself. Abe had ended up consoling _him_ instead of really talking about what was going on. _And then I just lied if he asked about it again._

 _I used to be able to fake better, back then. Out of practice, I suppose._ His eyes flick up, not that he can see much of Sakaeguchi’s face from here. _But I don’t_ want _to fake with you._

“Huh.” Sakaeguchi starts stroking him again, reaching up to pet his hair once before returning to his back. “That sounds...incredibly awful. And like quite the mood-killer.”

Abe breathes out something that’s almost a laugh but mostly just relief. “Yeah, it is, in a way." Words crowd against his tongue, words he wants to swallow and pretend never existed, as if denying them could render them untrue. _I could just not. I could refuse to tell him. I could tell him to go away, mind his own fucking business_. "Not like I can’t have sex! I can still...even when...”

“Gross.”

Abe blinks, startled. “Eh?”

“That’s gross. If you’re feeling that disconnected, why would you _ever_ —”

“No, but it’s easier, if I do.” _I don’t want to have to admit this stuff. I don’t want to have to admit that I can’t get this basic human thing down_. Abe brightens his tone convincingly, but Sakaeguchi still stops moving again. “I can usually have sex just fine if I do that.”

Sakaeguchi hmphs, then falls silent for a moment. “But you can’t even make out with me.” The words are soft, but loaded, full of layered hurt, disapproval, and worst of all, concern.

Abe lies there for a long stretch, face somber. “I... With you...” _I can’t say this shit! I have no...!_ He grits out an annoyed noise, wriggling one hand free so he can curl it around the back of Sakaeguchi’s neck; Sakaeguchi turns his head slightly, chin touching his temple. _Might as well put it out there. If it’s too much, better to find out now than down the line_. “I feel... With you, it’s...” His heart pounds, and the word ‘love’ fills his mouth, begs to be let loose, inappropriate, premature, and so very _right_ feeling. Abe swallows, and then, as if to avoid that one big taboo, words pour out of him. “I feel so close with you, already, and it freaks me out, because it’s so fucking easy with you, and it feels like I could just...it feels like you’re... Feels like you...” His cheeks are hot, and he glowers at nothing.

“Feels like I like you?” Sakaeguchi’s tone is gently chiding, and he huffs out a laugh. “Because, y’know, I do. Rather a lot. Perhaps even to an alarming degree, for someone I haven’t even made it to second base with.”

Abe grumbles out an unimpressed noise. “Did you _seriously_ just...?” Sakaeguchi just snickers in response, so Abe mercilessly nuzzles him. “Yeah.” His voice comes out almost sulky. “That’s what it feels like.”

“But you don’t trust me.” Abe winces, but then after a pause, nods; Sakaeguchi hums a thoughtful noise. "Well. I'll just have to work on earning that trust." His chest rises and falls under Abe’s shoulder. “So. Lemme just... What’s going on is you get this bad feeling when your emotions are high? And it lets you disengage from unplea— _intense_ feelings.” He can hear the perplexed frown in Sakaeguchi’s voice.

Abe nods, then says, “Yeah.”

“But with me—I don’t get it... So, it’s that you don’t get overwhelmed, or...?”

Abe makes a distressed expression he’s glad Sakaeguchi can’t see. “Can’t we just...can we be done talking about this.”

“No.”

Abe makes an irritated noise, but sweeps his fingertips up Sakaeguchi’s nape, then down to tuck into the collar of his sweater. He starts to speak, then wrinkles his nose. “If I say it, it sounds stupid.”

“Who is there to look cool for, here?” Sakaeguchi brings his hand up to cup Abe’s cheek; he tilts his head into the touch, then relaxes with a shrug.

“Fair enough.”

Sakaeguchi chuckles, whacking his cheek lightly before returning to petting him. “You weren’t supposed to _agree!_ ”

“Too bad.” Abe huffs out a laugh of his own, then tries again, “With you, I don’t feel like I,” he flushes, “doesn’t feel like I _need_ that distance. And that freaks me out. So then it happens, because...” _Wait, do I...?_

_I do this._

Abe reels, only half-notices he’s tightened his grip on Sakaeguchi. _How does that even work? How can I be—_

“Okay.” Sakaeguchi squeezes him, turning to kiss his forehead, then holds like that, giggling. Abe makes a somewhat affronted questioning noise. “It just... Basically, what you’re saying is you like me too much!” Sakaeguchi tips his head back, bringing his hand up to cover his face.

Abe pushes himself up so he can look at him, only to find him flushed crimson, still smiling goofily and laughing in a thoroughly undignified manner. _I feel a little bit like you’ve missed something here, but...if you’re happy..._ “Is... That’s good, though. If I like you. A lot.” There’s more than a touch of sullen question to his words.

Sakaeguchi peeks at him from behind his hand with an incredulous expression. “Of _course_ it’s good! I’m...” He covers his face with both hands, laughing again. Narrowing his eyes, Abe shifts his weight so he can reach up and tug Sakaeguchi’s hands down, but then can’t help smiling when he sees Sakaeguchi’s face again, still flushed just as bright. Abe smiles back, watching as Sakaeguchi’s eyes widen, then bends down, nose brushing lightly against Sakaeguchi’s.

Breath ghosts over Abe's face, then there are glancing touches, the almost sticky sensation of thin skin catching on his lips. Sakaeguchi’s hands turn, open against his chest, then slide to his sides, thumbs stroking. Abe draws back a little, enough to take in Sakaeguchi’s face, eyes closed and fringed with the delicate fans of his lashes, half-parted lips that are flushed pinker than normal, brown hair tousled and sticking up ridiculously over his forehead, the colour still high in his cheeks. When his eyes blink open and he notices Abe looking at him, he breaks into a smile that warms Abe more than any sunlight. And then he can’t hold back any longer, he sinks down with a sigh of a breath and presses his lips to Sakaeguchi’s, loving his sharp inhale, the way his fingers curl on his shirt, and the slow, slow roll of his hips, like he can’t help himself, like touching Abe fills him with the same aching fire that Abe feels all down his spine when his hand curls around Sakaeguchi’s shoulder, when he feels his chest slide against his own and his legs twitch in around him.

Sakaeguchi breaks the kiss, panting out a quick breath, then repeats, “It’s good. I,” he kisses Abe quickly, “kinda like you too much, too.” Abruptly, Sakaeguchi snorts out a laugh, then curls forward, pressing his face against Abe’s shoulder as he chuckles. It’s...unfairly cute, and Abe finds himself laughing, too, before shifting his hand to cup Sakaeguchi’s chin, coaxing him back so they can kiss again. Sakaeguchi’s breath stutters out of him when Abe sucks his lower lip, hand slipping down from Sakaeguchi's chin to curl around the side of his neck, thumb pressing just under his jaw. Sakaeguchi’s hips roll up again, and Abe hums a low noise, feeling his hard-on through his jeans.

He’s not entirely willing to give up Sakaeguchi’s lips, so he speaks against the corner of his mouth. “Mm. We could. The bedroom.”

“Hahy...yeah...” Sakaeguchi’s arms curl tighter around him.

And then pull back, hands splaying against his chest and pushing him up insistently. Abe sits back, eyebrows pulling together in a frown, especially when he sees Sakaeguchi’s glumly determined expression. “What?”

“I won’t.”

“Eh?”

“I won’t!” Sakaeguchi pulls a pout, and as much as there’s playfulness to it, there’s also that hard core showing in his otherwise warm brown eyes. Abe watches him consideringly, waiting for him to explain. Sakaeguchi sighs, face relaxing into something more dignified. “I’m not so desperate for a fuck that I want you to force yourself, _thanks_.”

Abe jerks back, offended. “It’s not like that!”

“Well, maybe _I_ don’t trust _you_ to be telling the truth.”

He tries to stare Sakaeguchi down, but Abe’s the one who looks away first, glancing over at the jasmine flowers on the coffee table. _That he hasn’t even noticed_. “It’s not a big deal. It really doesn’t bother me,” he says, voice low.

“Yeah, well, it bothers _me!_ ” Sakaeguchi sighs, then reaches out, grazing Abe’s cheek with the back of his knuckles; swiftly, Abe grabs his hand, kissing his palm. “When you think you’re ready, we’ll try."

 _As much as I hate it, he's right_. And once it's happened in a day, it's that much more likely to happen again. He sighs, rubbing his forehead. "You're right. Damn you."

Sakaeguchi sits up, cupping his face, drawing him forwards until their breath mingles pleasantly. "Of course I am.” Abe pulls a sour face at that. “But the second you're ready, I'm all yours." He tips Abe's head down to kiss his forehead. "In a heartbeat." He rests like that a moment, and Abe stares down at him, at the perfect curl of his body and his legs spread around his own, and blushes, grinning. Sakaeguchi kisses him once more. "In the meantime, can we stop with the Regency-style longing glances and lingering touches? I wanna kiss you!" That last comes out almost a whine.

Abe chuckles, tilting his head to kiss Sakaeguchi's lips. "Fine. If you insist." He smirks. “Though I do think I'd look awfully fine in a frock coat and top hat, don't you?" Sakaeguchi makes a disgruntled noise, swatting his shoulder. "And anyway, _you’re_ the one who keeps going around _touching_ people. When they’re trying to work, no less.”

“What? You kissed me first!”

“Not at work! And besides, you were saying such sweet things...” He flushes, glad their faces are still close so Sakaeguchi can’t see him. "What was I supposed to do?"

“Talking about my childhood and my dead parents is sweet?”

“No, that’s not what I—” Abe sighs, trying to decide if he’s willing to get into that today. He grumbles, then pushes Sakaeguchi down again, curling his arms around him and nuzzling against his chest. “It wasn’t that. You were talking about mistakes.”

“Wha— Mistakes?”

Abe tries to recall exactly what Sakaeguchi had said. “Or, I guess... Not mistakes. But you said that thing in French...”

“Oh! Um.” Sakaeguchi laughs self-consciously. “Why on _earth_ would you listen to all that rambling?”

Abe squeezes him. “No, I remember now. You were talking about ‘important things’. And _that_ was important to _me_.” Sakaeguchi makes an indignant noise, covering his face; Abe reaches up to tug his hands away again. Sakaeguchi slides one hand down onto his shoulder, then runs the other through his hair, leaving Abe sighing happily before he continues, “There’s stuff... Things I wish I hadn’t done, hadn't put myself through. Things that messed me up. And I was pissed about it. Still am. But then when you said that, I thought...maybe that won’t always be the case.”

Fingers push against his scalp, twisting the longer strands on top of his head around and around, then dragging back through his hair. “Well. That’s the idea, at least.”

“Mm. So. Then, obviously, kissing had to happen.”

“So, if I ramble at you about dumb stuff, you’ll kiss me?”

“Yeah, bu—"

"Shut me up?"

Abe frowns, then prods Sakaeguchi in the stomach. “It’s not dumb stuff. Not shutting you up.”

Sakaeguchi snickers, then says in a coy voice, “Well, then, what sort of things would I have to say, if not dumb ones?”

Abe lifts his head, giving him a lopsided grin. “Everything. Everything you say makes me want to kiss you.”

Sakaeguchi stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, then bursts out laughing, smushing his palm against Abe’s mouth. “Don’t say cheesy crap like that! You’re _killing_ me! Geez.”

“It’s true, though!” Abe’s words are muffled by Sakaeguchi’s hand, so he kisses it, over and over, until it slides away, around the back of his head, pulling him close so their lips meet. “Mm. Why weren’t we doing this before?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some cruel god has been forcing us apart as part of some challenge.”

“Now I have to kiss you again. That was _definitely_ stupid.”

Sakaeguchi does eventually take note of the jasmine, but they never actually end up looking at the garden boxes, just lie there talking and kissing in a languid, aimless way. Until Abe finds his words running into each other, slurring, getting lost in the warmth and stillness and the feel of Sakaeguchi’s fingers running through his hair, over his shoulders and back, the gentle hum of his voice and the light sound of his laughter. And then he’s being gently shaken awake, and even though Sakaeguchi says he’s only been out for a moment, Abe has a suspicion he’s let him sleep for a while. He'd like to pretend he's annoyed, but somehow, the idea that Sakaeguchi just patiently lay with him while he slept makes warm happiness settle in his stomach.

Sakaeguchi curls his arms around him again, murmuring, “You should probably eat before you sleep, shouldn’t you?”

“Mm?” Abe just rubs his cheek against Sakaeguchi’s chest, still not entirely willing to be conscious. “Yeah...” He lifts his head abruptly, chin banging against Sakaeguchi’s sternum. “You staying?”

“I...” Sakaeguchi considers his face for a long moment. “I think I should take this as an opportunity to leave. Not because I want to. Just...” He strokes Abe’s cheeks, half-smiling at him.

“You worried I’m going to seduce you with my clever use of instant curry and sleepiness?”

“Yes, because it would work.” Sakaeguchi’s tone is joking, but there’s a sharp note to it.

Abe raises an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t realise you were such a cheap date! I really shoulda— _Ach!_ ” Sakaeguchi swats him on the back of the head over and over until Abe grabs his wrist, both of them giggling like kids. Abe sits up, pulling Sakaeguchi along with him, still laughing even as he kisses him.

He wants to ask again as he watches Sakaeguchi tie his shoes, but decides against it. Without really thinking, he holds Sakaeguchi's coat out for him, noting with interest the way he blushes and smiles goofily as Abe settles the coat into place. He lets himself linger this time with his hands on Sakaeguchi’s shoulders before finally turning him, shifting one hand to his cheek, drawing him in for one last deliciously unhurried kiss.

Sakaeguchi finally pulls back, smooches his cheek, then says, “See you tomorrow, then?”

Abe smiles easily, adjusting Sakaeguchi's collar needlessly. “Yeah. Stay warm.”

Sakaeguchi’s mouth flattens into a bemused line, then curves up in a smile. “I will.” He turns, pulls the door open, takes half a step through it, then whirls, pulling cold air along with him the few steps back to Abe, pulling him down into a quick light touch of their lips. And then with a warm little laugh and his hand over his flushed face, he’s off, out the door, Abe waving after him in the winter darkness and still feeling the ghost of his lips on his own.

_That was definitely a date. A good one, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bittersweet-truth


	9. Ambrosia

Why _now_ , of any of the times he’s crossed the plaza, his heart should pound in his chest, why _now_ , his palms should sweat and his stomach should clench, Sakaeguchi couldn’t say. Maybe the legacy of too many times he’d shared new intimacy with someone only to meet them publicly after and get the cold shoulder. _There’s a time and a place for displays of physical affection for sure, and it’s not that I’m not understanding, just... Some guys manage to be particularly graceless about it, and I can’t help being nervous._

But when he finally looks up as he pushes open the doors, he catches sight of Abe watching him impatiently from the near side of the counter, arms crossed. Sakaeguchi can’t help the way he lights up, but then so does Abe, smiling warmly when he meets his eyes and dropping his arms to his sides as he covers the few steps between them.

They stop, not quite touching but nearer than two people would normally stand, and it’s thrilling, the way Abe sways a bit closer, the flush of his cheeks, and the adorable self-conscious smile curving his lips. _How I could ever have worried you would be_ anything _but graceful about this..._ Sakaeguchi snickers, drawing a perplexed look from Abe, so he attempts to stifle it. _If someone had referred to you as “graceful” in front of me when we first met, I would’ve laughed in their face.  
_

He tilts his head to the side, mouth still quirked up at the corners. “Just thinking how happy I am to see you.” There’s a lightness in simply admitting that fact.

Abe’s eyes widen slightly, and then he’s looking to the side, hand curled to cover his mouth even as he responds, “Yeah, me too.” He looks at Sakaeguchi out of the corner of his eyes, then he breaks into an easy grin, cupping his elbow and leaning in for a light kiss before turning and marching them quickly to the end of the counter and the opening into the kitchen. As soon as they’re out of sight of the front, Abe’s fingers close more firmly on his arm and he pulls him in close, other hand coming up to cup Sakaeguchi’s cheek. Sakaeguchi’s heart pounds, and he knows he’s grinning like an idiot as he twines his arms around Abe’s neck and pulls him eagerly down to meet his lips.

Sakaeguchi hums out a delighted noise, Abe’s skin so amazingly warm against his own after even a short time outside. Abe’s kiss blooms heat and colour through his body, fills in his outline with something rich and dizzying that meets that unfolding lightness in his chest, saturates it, makes him feel as though he’s larger, brighter than ever before. Just this, just a simple kiss, and he can understand a little bit how this feeling might be a little like willingly holding his hand in a flame, even if the fire burns delight through every nerve.

When they break the kiss, he feels full of an intense tenderness that he hopes shows in his face when he looks at Abe, a deep feeling of sympathy for this proud, strong man who has somehow been brought to his knees in the face of some as-yet nameless hurt. He slips one of his hands down to fit against the side of Abe’s neck, thumb swiping up to graze his jaw; Abe tilts his head, nudging his cheek into Sakaeguchi’s hand until he cups that instead.

Abe gives him a lopsided smile. “Stop giving me such a concerned look.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Were too.” Abe chuckles, then kisses his forehead. “I’m fine.” He exhales another laugh, shaking his head, tipping it down until their foreheads rest together. “I’m _better_ than fine.”

“Well _good_ , I’m glad I can cause intense feelings of ‘better than fine’ in you. I feel very accomplished,” he says archly, pinching Abe’s cheek.

Abe grabs his hand with a laugh, tugging it down and back until Sakaeguchi catches the hint and wraps his arm around his waist. “I’m great. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long while, and it’s your fault.”

“Well, I’m not apologising!”

“Good, I wouldn’t accept it.”

They just hug for a long moment, then Sakaeguchi remembers the contents of his other hand. He draws the single crimson rose down, brushing Abe's neck with the silky petals, the fully open blossom weighing heavy on the end of its stem. Abe eyes it curiously for half a second, then smiles in a way that lets Sakaeguchi know he doesn’t need to explain this flower. _Which is good. There are some things that are easier to say with a flower than with words, especially when it’s still so early._

Abe dips his chin a little, looking oddly sheepish, then reaches out, delicately cupping the blossom and lifting it out of Sakaeguchi’s hand. He raises his eyes slowly to meet Sakaeguchi’s as he brings the rose to his lips.

Sakaeguchi smiles back giddily, then curls his hand around Abe’s, pulling the rose out of the way with a pouty look. “That was  _my_ kiss! Why would you waste it on a silly rose?”

Abe grins, resisting the pull on his hand. Then his expression becomes more of a smirk. “I thought someone once said nothing was wasted? I’m practicing,” their semi-serious tug-of-war means he has to bend down to kiss the rose again, “so I can make sure I kiss you _properly_.”

Sakaeguchi gives up the rose to instead cup Abe’s face, pulling him in for a lingering kiss. “I want your shitty practice kisses." And another. "I want _all_ of your kisses. All of them. _Mine_.” His cheeks burn, but Abe just kisses him again with a laughing exhale before draping his arms over Sakaeguchi’s shoulders and humming a low, relaxed sound that burns through Sakaeguchi deliciously. He curls his arms around Abe, wishing his coat was out of the way, wishing they weren’t standing in a commercial kitchen, wishing that if he suggested they both take an early day, that Abe would agree and that he wouldn’t feel guilty about it. But this, just this moment of pure, simple joy, to be close to him, to touch and be touched with such affection... This, he can survive on, for the time being.

“Canoodling in the workplace can be considered a form of sexual harassment.”

Abe breaks the kiss with a gasp, though his arms curl tighter around Sakaeguchi’s shoulders. He scowls over at Izumi, who leans in the doorway with a bland expression. Abe’s scowl turns into a nasty smirk that makes Sakaeguchi’s heart skip. “Yeah? Well then, what do I call the state I caught  _you_ in two weeks ago?”

Izumi stands straight and stiff, turning a rather spectacular shade of red. “It  _wasn't_ my idea! And we...we were gonna clean up...!” Intrigued and also slightly disconcerted, Sakaeguchi’s eyes widen as he tries desperately not to laugh.

“Yeah, I should fucking _hope_. I ought to have fired you.”

Sakaeguchi can’t help interjecting, “Surely, it wasn’t—”

Abe turns back to him, looking deeply offended. “This kid? I came in after hours to pick up some paperwork I’d forgotten, and I walk in on him and that little shit from the—”

Izumi closes the distance swiftly to clap his hand over Abe’s mouth, smiling winsomely at Sakaeguchi. “I’m sure Sakaeguchi-san doesn’t care to know about such vile things.” He snatches back his hand with a disgusted face. “Ew, wet.” Izumi starts to wipe it off on his pants, then smirks and wipes it on Abe’s shoulder instead. Then yelps when Abe yanks on his long hair.

“You deserve that!”

“Be nice to him! Don’t you remember what it was like to be young and get up to no good in places you shouldn’t?”

“ _I_ never tried to blow someone in an—” Izumi’s hand slaps over Abe’s mouth again. Sakaeguchi covers his own mouth as he laughs, eyes sparkling as he glances between Izumi and Abe, who eventually both laugh too.

Sakaeguchi assumes a serious expression. “He’s right, though. We ought to set a better example for your youthful employees! So they are less likely to be led astray by...how was it you referred to his...companion?”

“Little shit.”

“Ah. Yes. So.” Sakaeguchi snickers again.

Izumi grimaces, looking off to the side consideringly. “It’s a pretty good descriptor, to be honest.”

“Anyway.” Abe seems more than ready to be finished talking about this. “If you will give us another minute, I promise the canoodling will stop shortly.”

“Eh, I don’t actually care, since you’re outta sight.”

Abe grates out an exasperated noise. “Then _please_ go away.”

“Sure thing, Abe-san. Wouldn’t want to interfere! You’ve got that covered on your own, I believe.”

“Oi, shut it!” Abe's tone is still playful, but there's a sudden tensing of his jaw.

Sakaeguchi decides to diplomatically end the tiff by grabbing Abe’s apron strings and pulling him down into a kiss. Izumi makes an offended noise but leaves them in peace.

Abe's side presses against him for a moment as he reaches past him, and Sakaeguchi's confused until he remembers the rose. And then even that much thought is gone, evaporating as Abe backs him up against the counter, hands pushing up the front of his coat to settle on his hips. Sakaeguchi looses his grip on the apron, just splaying his hands on Abe's chest, then pulls them slowly down his front, just luxuriating in the feel of his body, all warm and firm and just a hint of squish when he reaches his stomach. Sakaeguchi hums a pleased noise into the kiss, slipping his arms around Abe's waist, delighted by how perfectly he fills his arms, by the way he leans heavily into his embrace.

Abe breaks the kiss, though he stays with their faces pressed close together, their panted breaths hot on each others' skin. He closes his mouth on a low, breathless noise, then kisses Sakaeguchi quickly. "Maybe doing this here..."

"Maybe not such a good idea?"

He feels Abe's mouth open on a grin, and can't resist kissing the corner of his mouth. “Yeah.” Abe huffs out an amused breath, then captures his lips again, this time more lingering. "I don't wanna stop."

"Good. I find that promising." Sakaeguchi raises a hand to Abe's cheek, just wanting the contact but then fascinated by the feel of Abe's smiling face. He brushes his thumb over his brow, the crinkle at the corner of his eye, over the firmness of his cheek, then grazing down to feel the upturned corner of his mouth, down the soft, damp curve of his lip. Abe grabs his hand, kissing the ball of his thumb, then returns it to his cheek, holding it there, nuzzling against Sakaeguchi's nose before kissing him slowly.

This time, it's Sakaeguchi who pulls away first. "We should really..."

"Yeah."

He tilts his head up just the same, their lips moving over each other as though each were trying to talk himself around to pulling away. Abe's fingers tighten on his hips, heels of his palms pressing against his hip bones.

And then, with a quick exhale, Abe steps back. Sakaeguchi pushes him further away, then points across the room with a self-conscious laugh. "You. Go stand over there, and...and I'll stay here, and perhaps we can manage not to act like teenagers for a second?"

Abe obediently crosses the room, and then has the poor manners to lounge back against the stove and look offensively handsome. Sakaeguchi covers his hotly flushing face with a little laugh.

"Maybe keeping it to longing looks would be a little easier to manage."

"Perhaps." Sakaeguchi peeks at Abe through his fingers, then drops his hands, grinning. " _You_ wanna go back to that?"

"Hell no."

Sakaeguchi laughs, then straightens, assuming a haughty expression and turning towards the door with his arm crooked high. "Shall we pretend, for long enough for you to make me a latte so I can get out of your hair?"

Abe eyes his arm dubiously, but comes to stand next to him. After a moment, he slips his hand through Sakaeguchi's arm, giving him a pained smile; Sakaeguchi beams back at him as he walks them towards the doorway. They've almost reached it when Abe snorts out a laugh, letting go of his arm as he bends in to kiss Sakaeguchi's cheek and then jabbing him in the side, ticklish and playful and wonderful and Sakaeguchi tries to give him the same treatment only to be met with an impassive stare. He kisses Abe's nose in vicious retaliation.

Sakaeguchi retreats to his side of the counter when they get back out, though he can't stop himself from leaning longingly on the bar as he watches Abe work. Abe keeps looking up at him self-consciously, smiling back down at the latte taking shape under his hands.

Sakaeguchi raises his eyebrows as Abe flicks the tip of the thermometer through the rings of crema and foam on top of the latte. "Y’know, really, it's a good thing we're dating, since it seems like that's the only one you can do competently."

Abe scowls at him as he stabs the thermometer back in its sink. Then swiftly draws it back out, flicking cold water at Sakaeguchi. He laughs, holding up his hands in surrender.

Abe sets the cup on the bar and then before Sakaeguchi can move, his hands dart out to fist in the lapels of his coat and haul him closer. Abe kisses him, quick and fiery and sweet.

Sakaeguchi grabs blindly for the cup when Abe releases him, almost upsetting it as he stares dazedly back into the deep, intense grey of Abe’s eyes. “Careful...!” Abe chokes out, grabbing the cup back from him and setting it back down on the counter. He shoots Sakaeguchi an unimpressed look as he puts a lid on it himself, then hands it back.

“Then don’t go kissing me all of a sudden!”

Abe smirks. “You didn’t seem that upset about it...”

"I wasn't. You could do it again, sometime."

Abe colours, grinning back at him, then reaches forward, cupping his cheek briefly. "I will." His voice coils warmth in Sakaeguchi's stomach, all up his spine.

"Ah." He clears his throat, feeling the heat bloom in his cheeks, and covers his face with his free hand, avoiding Abe's eyes. "Well. S...see you soon?" His eyes flick to Abe's; he can't help that small curl of uncertainty; it relaxes when he meets Abe's eyes, though.

"Soon!"

They make awkward eye-contact for a moment, and then Sakaeguchi waves goodbye, and walks out into the cold that doesn't feel so biting anymore.

* * *

 

The mornings must be just as grey as they were two days ago. And yet... Perhaps it's just that Sakaeguchi notices the little touches of colour more, the citrusy orange and yellow of a smoothie shop's signage, a bit of brilliant green moss growing on a wall, the lavender in a young woman's hair on the train.

He sings to his plants at home in the morning, and so it only seems fair to greet the ones at work with the same, going around with his small watering can and examining them for damage or illness and reinventing the lyrics of a folk song to be about handsome men with lovely funny eyes and jawlines you could use to cut something and also probably smooch. Fortunately, he's singing the unmodified chorus, something about mining, when the door opens. Sakaeguchi turns from examining the leaves of one of the dwarf roses, singing out, "We're not open ye-et!" since he's already been caught being a goof, only to stop dead with his mouth open and his hand tightening convulsively on the watering can's handle.

Abe blinks at him, obviously trying to stifle a laugh. He wears his bomber jacket, hanging casually open over a white dress shirt with the top button undone and revealing a tempting view of the hollow of his throat, and slim slightly faded black jeans that stretch with unnecessary appealingness over his thighs. And even this, even this monochrome outfit seems rich in colour, or perhaps it’s that it brings out the warm honey of Abe’s hands and face, the slight green cast of the grey in his eyes, provides a simple, appealing backdrop for the dramatic angles of his features. Which are currently attractively quirked in a smile. "Were...you were singing."

"Yes," Sakaeguchi responds archly, "to the plants."

"To the plants."

"Mm-hm!"

"Do they like your singing?"

Sakaeguchi looks down to brush a finger under a rose leaf. "Well, I suppose I don't know for sure, but they have yet to raise any objections."

"That's a relief. I'm glad the plants don't object. Do they sing back?"

Sakaeguchi narrows his eyes. "I'll have you know this is backed up by research! If you want, I could send you  _several_ scholarly articles about the benefits of talking to plants..."

Abe chuckles. "Nah, I'm good," he closes the few steps between them, resting his hand on Sakaeguchi's waist and smooching him lightly, "I trust you."

The words are spoken offhand, about something silly, but they still leave Sakaeguchi blushing. Or maybe it's just the sudden proximity of Abe, or the delicious comfortableness of the gesture. Abe's hand stays on his waist, so Sakaeguchi shifts, cocking his hip and pressing into Abe's touch. He transfers the watering can to his other hand, then sets it down on the plant stand, noticing then the cup in Abe's other hand. Which he sets down as well.

And the Sakaeguchi's slipping his hands inside the open front of Abe's jacket, fitting his hands to his sides, pressing his fingers into his back, and Abe, Abe is slinging an arm around his shoulders and the other around his waist and kissing him, kissing him like he's been kept up just as late by desperate thoughts of their sweaty bodies tangled together, like he's been waiting just as eagerly for the first moment they could see each other.

And then, against all his better judgment, Sakaeguchi's walking backwards, threading his way expertly around the plant stands and pulling Abe with him with insistent fingers hooked through his belt loops. He does miss the doorway slightly, crashing his butt and then shoulder into it, and Abe tsks out a chiding noise and grabs his hips to redirect him. They giggle into each other's mouths, Sakaeguchi wrapping his arms around Abe's neck as they pass into the yellow glow and relative privacy of the back room.

Abe's arms circle round him, and then he's fiddling with something behind Sakaeguchi's back, which he eventually ascertains are his apron strings. He shifts back so Abe can lift it over his head and throw it in the direction of the small work table, and so, of course, Sakaeguchi has no choice but to shove his hands in the front of Abe's jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms and catching the collar to throw it after the apron. Abe fits his hands to the curve of his hips, pushing him up against the door to the alley, just breathing hard against Sakaeguchi's cheek for a wonderfully long moment before he turns his head and crushes their lips together. And then it's tongues and wet and fire and Abe's hands sliding around to tuck thumbs behind his belt, teasingly close to his ass, leaving Sakaeguchi arching desperately, fingers gripping Abe’s upper arms through the slightly silky fabric of his shirt. _Goddamnit, I want to make you_ touch _me!_

Sakaeguchi shifts his hands to Abe’s chest, then, heart in his mouth, to the second button down on his shirt. He pauses there for a moment, but Abe still kisses him encouragingly, quick, light, over and over, his hands sliding back and forth and fingers starting to press down the curve of Sakaeguchi’s ass. Sakaeguchi pinches the front placket up with his index finger and thumb, pushing the button through the slit with his middle finger to be caught by the fingers of his other hand, pulled through, the edges of the fabric tugged apart before he slips his hands down to the next button. Abe breaks the kiss, tipping his head down to look at Sakaeguchi’s hands, mouth open slightly, then looks up, meeting his eyes for a moment with an expression that could only be described as smoldering and Sakaeguchi might laugh, except that then Abe tilts his head back, stretching out the lines of his throat, the knob of his adam’s apple leaping as he swallows, and it’s such a clear _go right ahead_ and it’s leaving him with his dick stiffening against the inside of his jeans and his head a blank rush of want.

He inhales deeply as he leans in, tilting his head to press a gentle kiss just underneath Abe’s chin. He smells like coffee and still a bit like shower, probably something with a name like glacial facemelt, and then, underneath that, when he nuzzles his way down to kiss the angle at the side of Abe’s throat, he smells a little like sweat. Sakaeguchi hums out his delight, tugging the shirt and undershirt out of the way so he can suck kisses along Abe’s collarbone, other hand splayed up the side of his neck, fingers pressing behind the angle of his jaw. He can’t resist sucking a mark there, where the curve of Abe’s delt starts, feeling a shock of pleasure down his spine when Abe gasps in a ragged noise, fisting a hand in Sakaeguchi’s hair and holding him close. So he scrapes teeth over Abe’s skin, bites down on the firm resistance of the muscle, breath hitching, then rushing out of him as Abe finally grabs his ass, hand squashed between him and the door. Abe doesn’t appear to care, because then his hips rock heavily against Sakaeguchi’s, his hard-on obvious and leaving Sakaeguchi moaning, biting down again before kissing his way back to tease teeth on the side of his neck.

_Is this...we’re gonna...here??_

Sakaeguchi drags his lips wetly up Abe’s neck, eyes barely open as he discovers that yes, the line of Abe’s jaw is _perfect_ for kissing, the barest hint of stubble against his lips but skin soft, and then he reaches the corner, also perfect, kissing that and then up to nuzzle in behind Abe’s ear. It’s there, pressing his nose into the apply scent of Abe’s hair, that he suddenly feels the stiffness in Abe’s body.

_No. Not here. Not now._

He can’t make himself move for a moment, but then, with great force of will, he kisses Abe’s skin one last time and then leans back, releasing the collar of his shirt and sliding both hands to his shoulders. Abe grits out a frustrated noise, following him to kiss him hard, and Sakaeguchi meets him with equal force, but then lifts his hands to cup his face, pushing him back.

Abe’s breath is hot on his cheek. “I can _do_ this.”

“I’m not fucking you if you do that _thing_.”

“I’m _not_.”

“But you’re afraid you’re going to, aren’t you?”

He can almost feel Abe’s glare, even if he can’t see it. And then he sags against Sakaeguchi, curling his arms around his back and resting his head on his shoulder. There’s still tension in the way his shoulders rise and fall, still frustration there, and that, at least, is echoed in every fibre of Sakaeguchi’s body, screaming at him for stopping them. But he steels himself against it and the near-ache of his dick, setting his face determinedly as he wraps his arms around Abe’s shoulders, hugging him.

“We’re not in a hurry, here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Abe's breath hitches, his arms twitching tighter around him; Sakaeguchi's eyes widen.

It feels like the right thing to keep talking, give them both time to calm down. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie, it’s frustrating.” He strokes Abe’s hair, considering the cupboards across the narrow room. “I’ve been thinking about having sex with you for _months_ , and it’s... You're..." He falls silent for a moment, pushing his fingers roughly through Abe's hair, then exhales heavily. "But...I’ve waited this long, and I can wait a whole hell of a lot more. So don’t rush yourself. Or I’ll _never_ forgive you!”

Abe chuckles at his exaggeratedly vexed tone, then groans against his shirt. “Okay.” He squeezes him tighter, turning his head to rest his cheek on Sakaeguchi’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Okay. You’re right. We shouldn’t.”

Part of Sakaeguchi wishes Abe had argued more, but he shoves that part into a mental box and sits on the lid. He’s smiling when Abe lifts his head, even broader after Abe kisses him, a quick smack of lips that’s sort of charmingly unsexy. Abe smiles back at him, though there’s something tired to it that makes Sakaeguchi want to pull him back down on his shoulder. And then Abe blanches, smile turning sheepish.

“Just. Do you mind if I, ah, don’t go back out there right away?”

Sakaeguchi’s eyes widen, and then he snickers. “Sure. Take all the time you need.” He pushes on his toes to kiss Abe’s cheek. “I’m not going to complain about having your company a little longer.”

In all honesty, he’s glad to replace the stout apron covering his front, not that anyone comes in. Abe takes up station in the chair, legs crossed in a way that makes it sort of impossible for Sakaeguchi not to think about the bulge in the front of his jeans or how the chair is quite sturdy, probably enough to support two... He shakes his head, trying his best to ignore Abe’s eyes on him as he counts float.

As he finishes, Abe hums a thoughtful noise. Sakaeguchi looks up expectantly, struck by the curves of his muscular legs. _Definitely a catcher. Damn, those...having those legs wrapped around me..._ He bites his lip a bit harder than necessary, refocusing pointedly on Abe’s face. Not that that’s much help.

“Dating.”

“Eh?”

Abe’s cheeks are lightly pink, eyebrows arched, though he avoids Sakaeguchi’s eyes. “You said, yesterday... You said we were dating. So we should have a date.”

“Oh!” Sakaeguchi feels heat rise in his own cheeks, and smiles goofily. “Yes, we should.”

“Maybe go out somewhere.”

Sakaeguchi nods, stepping over to set a hand lightly on Abe’s shoulder. “Neutral ground?” Abe looks up at him sharply, then tips his head back down, nodding after a moment. Sakaeguchi curls his arm around his head, pulling him close against his stomach with a slow breath; Abe turns into the contact, lifting one arm to circle around his waist. “On Tuesday?” Abe makes an assenting noise. “Maybe a movie...matinee, and then dinner out somewhere? You  _did_ promise to take me somewhere good...”

Abe looks up at him. “That was for your birthday.”

Sakaeguchi smiles tenderly down at him. “Well, then, don’t take me to the best place. Just take me somewhere nice.”

Abe smiles back, then nuzzles against his stomach again, twisting in the chair to get both arms around him. “Okay. It’s a date, then!”

“Mm-hm!”

Sakaeguchi pets his hair until Abe finally reluctantly takes his leave. He finishes opening with his brow pulled into a frown, though. Because, as much as he’s patient, he also desperately wants to understand, to help, to see if he can aid Abe in battling through this stuff. _I know it doesn’t_ have _to be me, but I_ want _it to. I want to be there for him, and I want to be there for the look on his face when he makes it to the other side. I want to be waiting there with my arms ready for him._ Sakaeguchi forms plans while he considers which wrapping papers to order for Valentine's Day.

* * *

 

On Monday, Sakaeguchi leaves Misae alone early in the afternoon, making a vague excuse about running some errand that is met with an arched brow and pointed silence. He takes the train one stop past his own, then follows the map on his phone around a couple turns, and finally advances on the bakery with a determined expression. _I'm going in there and I'm making friends. And then I'm going to plumb him mercilessly for information._

The bakery has a cute baby pink and cream awning with a scalloped edge. In romaji script across the front, it reads _Le Petit Roitelet_ , transliterated in katakana underneath. The windows have cheery lace curtains and the name of the shop painted in white in a gentle arch over a line art logo of an adorable fat little bird.

Sakaeguchi pushes through the door to the pleasing tinkle of a bell. A tall young woman with bleached hair done up in a shiny bun greets him, then goes back to filling a tray with bags of cookies. Sakaeguchi goes to stand in front of a case of sweets, examining the array of multicoloured pastel macarons on the top level, pointedly leaving her to her task.

 _Okay, but how the heck am I supposed to do this? I can't just waltz in and ask to see someone in the middle of their workday over a personal matter...! Maybe I could pretend to have a complaint and demand to see him!_ Sakaeguchi side-eyes the young woman, who is now putting buns in a box for an elderly man, and huffs out a soft amused breath.

He catches an odd flurry of movement from around the floor-to-ceiling shelf filled with baskets with loaves of bread in them, but by the time he looks, whoever it was is gone. _No, that'd be mean. And what would I complain about? Your food is too delicious. I demand you stop at once. Your ex-boyfriend is too cute. No, I don't want him to stop, I just wish to register a complaint._ Sakaeguchi giggles, earning himself a perplexed stare from bother server and customer. _Well, I suppose he_ must _come out front now and then... I'll just have to delay and hope..._

He catches another flutter of movement, this time looking up in time to catch sight of pale, tousled hair and a skinny white-clad form before the person disappears again.

_Perhaps I won't have to wait that long after all._

Sakaeguchi does shift to the other end of the counter, closer to the opening into the back, now pretending to peruse the case full of savoury baked goods. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a slim form edges around the corner, freezing when he sees that Sakaeguchi has moved. Sakaeguchi looks up with an inviting smile, but Mihashi has already run off with a squeak. There's a loud crash, making everyone wince. The server runs a few steps towards the back, then stops when she hears a voice, shrugs, and turns back to the front.

"Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen! Whatcha doing?"

"Y-Yuu! I was...I...there's...! And then...p-proofing rack!"

"Oh??" Sakaeguchi can't help thinking that if they were aiming for secrecy, they really ought to keep their voices down more. Or at all.

"Yeah! It's...Abe? Th-the..."

"Seriously?" Tajima's face appears around the corner, all freckles and broad grin. Sakaeguchi smiles back easily, bemused when he disappears. "Yeah! I remember that guy!" _Remembers me...? We didn't even..._ "That's _him?_ " _Wait...him? Am I a subject of casual conversation in bakeries??_

Sakaeguchi covers his face, chuckling self-consciously. And then flushes red at the next thing he overhears.

"Y-yeah! I met...time! He's! Yuu, he's a g-good person!"

 _What on earth did I...?_ The memory of that one chance meeting comes back, of steadying the frantic baker and the way he'd lit up, as though Sakaeguchi had performed some great act of mercy instead of a basic courtesy. _What a strange...!_

There's a scuffle from the back. "N-n- _no_ _!_ "

"C'mon! He looks nice! Go sell ’im a meringue!"

"B-but! But!"

It sounds like Mihashi puts up an impressive fight, but Tajima is dedicated (and probably weighs more), and inexorably, Mihashi is shoved out into the doorway.

He looks more like an apprentice than the proprietor, seeming very young with his unruly hair scrunched down under a hairnet and a smear of something gooey and delicious-looking on one cheek and a few smudges from, Sakaeguchi assumes, his encounter with the proofing rack all up his side. He flushes when he sees Sakaeguchi smiling at him encouragingly, then looks away, eyes darting around the bakery lightning quick. Sakaeguchi finds he wants to give the man a hug.

"Mihashi-san?" he prompts, gently. Mihashi twitches, then looks at him again, eyes wide, before glancing behind himself as though expecting to see a parent there. "I was hoping to catch you. If I've..." Talking to the awkward man makes  _him_ feel awkward. "If you're busy, it's no bother! Partly, I just wanted to come buy something..." Sakaeguchi turns pointedly back towards the case, hoping that not being caught in the spotlight of another's gaze would help Mihashi settle a little. Smiling, he adds, "I've had a few things when I was at the café, you know... Like that cake! It was exquisite."

Mihashi shuffles over, fussing with the front of his apron. "R-really? Th-the gâteau p-provençal?" Noting the proper pronunciation, despite the stammer, Sakaeguchi glances back at him, which makes Mihashi stiffen and look away. Still, there's a funny shy little v of a smile on his lips that seems promising.

"I suppose so? I didn't catch the name... The lovely fruity one for Abe's birthday."

Mihashi flushes, and his smile broadens. He tucks his thumbs behind the front of his apron, sliding them up and down against the fabric. "Yeah...that one." He dips his chin, peeking up at Sakaeguchi, then looks away again. "Did...did s-Sakae...guchi-san...the...because...the lavender?"

Sakaeguchi blinks back at Mihashi, smile a bit fixed until he thinks he's got what Mihashi was trying to say. "Did I like the lavender?" Mihashi nods jerkily, gasping out an odd little happy noise. "It was perfect. It can be an overpowering taste if not handled well, but it was well-balanced, and the rich tanginess of the buttercream offset it beautifully, I thought." Mihashi lights up so much that Sakaeguchi can only laugh.

Mihashi collapses forward. “I...I’m so relieved...th-that you liked…”

“Wha— Why would you even care? You barely know me!” Mihashi gapes at him, mouth flapping as though he’s trying to object. Sakaeguchi eventually takes pity on him and walks over to the case with sweets in it, giving Mihashi another beckoning glance. Mihashi trots over to him, watching him uncertainly, so Sakaeguchi smiles at him. “Do you sell it in smaller form, or...?”

“Not that one! Because...because…two days!”

“Abe mentioned. He was grateful.”

Mihashi smiles. “He said! Texted, I mean. But...so not that, but some others?” Mihashi dips down behind the case, sliding open a door and fidgeting with a tray of small mint-green mousse cakes before standing jerkily. “Just today! I...I made...” he bends down again, pulling out a tray with a few small cakes on it, then sets it on the counter, smiling tentatively.

The round cakes are a bit wider than Sakaeguchi’s hands, the tops vibrantly tangerine-coloured and shiny, with a swipe of deeper orange glaze on one side, a smear of white across it, and then an artfully casual dusting of something that doesn’t look ruddy enough for cinnamon but definitely looks like some kind of spice. Under that thick top layer is a base of something creamy-looking, and then a crust that suggests cheesecake. All arranged on beautiful shiny gold card. Sakaeguchi eyes them with great interest.

“Because it’s winter! So, k-kabocha... Like...like steamed...! But cheese...cheesecake! And then soon...” He rubs a finger against his cheek, looking like a school child who’s just been called on. “I just... L-Lunar N-New Year soonish? So on them...” Mihashi looks down at them, hunching his shoulders. “I guess they’re...they’re kind of odd, but...”

“They look _delicious_. I’ll take one home, if that’s alright.”

Mihashi seems to swell with delight. “Really?”

The young woman, currently ringing someone up at the till, laughs. “Mihashi-san, they’ve been selling great, you know.”

Mihashi turns his wide eyes on her. “They have?”

She sighs patiently. “Yes. There will only be two left after that, and it’s not even noon yet.”

“Oh...” Mihashi stares down at the cakes, cheeks flushed. Sakaeguchi covers his mouth as he laughs, feeling oddly fond towards Mihashi. _I'm going to make you my friend, so_ there.

"It's awfully large for one, though. Perhaps Mihashi-san might be available to come share it with me later? We  _do_ have a mutual friend I would very much like to talk to you about." Mihashi stares at him, and Sakaeguchi winces internally. _Crap, that sounds like some weird come-on...! Eyyyy, I heard you’re the ex! Wanna drop by my place sometime?_ "I mean, I would also love a chance to get to know  _you_ better..." _Not actually improving the situation!!_

"S-Sakaeguchi-san would like...?" Mihashi’s eyes go impossibly wide, and then he beams at him. "I...I'd love to! If that’s alright...” He just seems excited, unaware of any peculiarity about the invitation, and Sakaeguchi can’t tell whether he’s just very polite or he’s actually completely oblivious.

“Yes, of course it is! I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” Mihashi looks pleased, but then jumps. He frowns uncertainly down at the cakes with his lip caught in his teeth. Sakaeguchi tilts his head to the side, considering him as Mihashi twists his hands in his apron. “Do _you_ not like the cakes?”

Mihashi looks up at him, slowly pulling his apron skirt up as though he thought he could hide behind it. “N-no! D-does Sakaeguchi-san...the whole...um...”

Sakaeguchi presses his lips together in a patient, if lightly exasperated, smile. _Getting Mihashi to talk might not be hard, but actually getting information out of him might be another thing..._ “Mihashi-san. I would _like_ to share this cake with you. I would _like_ you to come to my house. I would _like_ to talk with you and get to know you.” He looks at Mihashi expectantly, hoping he’ll volunteer what was bothering him.

“I want to! I...I...” Mihashi goes back to biting his lip a moment longer, then says, “But...the cake, it’s...this one...b-better fresher? So...soon? But it’s alright! I-if I...”

“Oh, is that so? Well, why not come by today, then?” _What luck. Get this probably lightly excruciating first visit over with.  
_

“T-today?”

“After work, yes. Only if you’re free.”

“I...I’d love to!”

Sakaeguchi beams back at him as they pull out phones and exchange information. Mihashi painstakingly folds up a small box with the bakery’s name and the little bird logo on top in gold, then slides one of the cakes into it. He attempts to ring him up, getting more and more flustered by the till, all fluttering hands and self-conscious glances at Sakaeguchi, until the young woman gently shoos him out of the way and finishes the transaction with friendly efficiency.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD WOULD YOU TWO FUCK ALREADY.  
> Any time I write Sakaeguchi talking to someone new, I'm just like yeah...yeah I ship it...cool... XD   
> Ambrosia: Love returned.


	10. Buttercup and Columbine

Sakaeguchi cradles the box carefully the entire way home and puts it directly in the fridge (as per Mihashi’s shyly given instructions). He sets about doing a little tidying. _Mihashi doesn’t seem particularly snooty, but I still want to make a good impression..._

He takes the cake out of the fridge long enough to snap a photo, though, and sends it, along with the text _NONE for YOU!!_ to Abe, who texts back a few minutes later with _Good, I’m still full from lunch._

> [01:56pm]  
>  [Yuuto: you’re no fun to tease!! unu]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: I am all kinds of fun]  
>  [Is that supposed to be pouting?]
> 
> [Yuuto: yes]  
>  [it was SUPPOSED to be endearing]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Who said it wasn't?]  
>  [What're you up to? Having someone over?]
> 
> [Yuuto: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT AND THEN JUST "oh hows ur day"]  
>  [GOD]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Is that an official rule somewhere? I'm gonna need a citation.]

Sakaeguchi snorts out a laugh, giddy and smiling. But when he goes to reply, he hesitates, feeling sheepish and uncertain. Despite his good intentions, he's not entirely sure how this might look to Abe.

 _No, I know_ _perfectly_ _well what it'll look like. Hey, nbd, I just invited ur ex over to plumb him mercilessly for information._

He considers a moment longer.

> [02:11pm]  
>  [Yuuto: it's a rule in MY book so you're just gonna have to deal XP]  
>  [I HOPE I’m making a new friend. ^_^ I’ll tell you more about it after!]
> 
> [02:16pm]  
>  [Abe Takaya: Good for you.]  
>  [Make sure to hold hands when you cross streets, and don’t give yourselves tummy aches with all that cake.]
> 
> [Yuuto: you’re a dick. XP But I still lo  
>  ←←←  
>  [...a dick. XP Would you rub it better if I did? ;o]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Yes.]

Sakaeguchi stares down at the text, feeling heat bloom across his cheeks, then bursts out laughing.

> [Yuuto: ACTUALLY lol]  
>  [maybe I’ll fib, and say I have one tomooooorrow. 0: )]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Heh.]  
>  [If it’s really that exciting to you to have me feel up your stomach, I will gladly do it, no pretense required.]

Sakaeguchi drops his phone on the counter, grabbing the tea towel and hiding his face in it, giggling.

> [Yuuto: well, when you put it THAT way...]  
>  [I mean, it wouldn't be my FIRST choice]  
>  [but I certainly wouldn't say no... ;)]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Oh yeah?]  
>  [What would your first choice be, then?]

Sakaeguchi wishes there was a blanket he could hide under. Possibly an entire bed. He’s pretty sure his blush must be visible from space. _I'm_ far _too old to get so flustered by this stuff. And yet..._

> [02:34pm]  
>  [Yuuto: hmm…]  
>  [I love just having you hold me, honestly!]  
>  [but I also loved having you grab my ass :3]

Sakaeguchi almost throws his phone down on the counter and paces the length of the kitchen before picking it back up again.

> [Abe Takaya: Really?]  
>  [That's kind of...refreshingly banal.]
> 
> [Yuuto: DID YOU EXPECT ME TO BE A HUGE PERVERT OR SOMETHING?]  
>  [sorry, I'm no good at this stuff orz]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Not especially.]  
>  [What stuff?]

Sakaeguchi emits a lightly outraged squawk.

> [02:38pm]  
>  [Yuuto: now YOU'RE teasing ME]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: No, I'm not.]
> 
> [Yuuto: AUGHHHHHHHH]  
>  [ARE YOU SERIOUS]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Perfectly.]  
>  [Oh, you mean texting about sex stuff?]
> 
> [Yuuto: YES]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: I thought you were doing just fine.]
> 
> [Yuuto: You're utterly TERRIBLE]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Does that mean you want to stop?]

Sakaeguchi chucks his phone at the counter again, making a series of (rather unfortunate) faces at it.

> [Yuuto: NO]  
>  [but I might explode if we kept going with that...]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Is that a euphemism?]
> 
> [Yuuto: NO IT'S NOT]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Well, then we'd better stop.]  
>  [It'd be inconvenient and messy if you exploded.]
> 
> [Yuuto: YOU ARE PURE EVIL AND I LOV  
>  <\-- <\-- <\--

While he's trying to think of a more seductive way to end that sentence, the front door's buzzer sounds. Sakaeguchi suddenly has a few regrets regarding one small flighty baker.

> [Yuuto: YOU ARE PURE EVIL and we'll have to stop for now anyway]  
>  [my friend just got here :( ]

He's still flushed when he opens the door to find an equally pink-cheeked Mihashi standing there with that funny shy smile.

"Sa-Sakaeguchi-san! I came, if it’s okay..."

"Yes, welcome! Come in..."

He steps aside to allow Mihashi inside, watching with amusement as he stares around for several seconds and then jumps and dips to take off his shoes. Mihashi shrugs out of his coat (Sakaeguchi can't help wondering if he ought to report to Abe that Mihashi was properly dressed for outside, this time), crumples it into an untidy ball, and plops it on top of his shoes. He sways to his feet, smiling, then blanches when he sees Sakaeguchi's polite perplexed frown, and makes a frantic, breathy noise before dropping back to his knees and grabbing his coat. He shakes it out before starting to fold it more tidily. Sakaeguchi huffs out a little laugh and holds out his hand. He waits while Mihashi stares at it in confusion, then just taking his coat from him to hang up. _Is this also going to make me a 'good person' too?_

He leads the way into the living area, saying over his shoulder, "Would you like tea or coffee? I'll just put the kettle on..." Mihashi trails after him, eyes like saucers as he looks around, and Sakaeguchi has to stifle a laugh.

"Um...w-whatever Sakaeguchi-san w-wants..."

Sakaeguchi glances over at him sharply as he sets the kettle on. "Now, now, that won't do. You're my guest." _Why is it that talking to you makes me feel like your incredibly awkward auntie?_ Mihashi fidgets with the open front of his lemon-and-cream striped hoodie, avoiding Sakaeguchi's eyes. _Perhaps a different question_. "Mihashi-san, what would be better paired with the cake?"

Mihashi looks up at that, his little worried frown gone, and Sakaeguchi feels a surge of triumph. "Um! C-coffee...something mellow... Or! Or a smokey tea!” His fingers flit about together in front of his chest, tracing out vague shapes in the air. “Or one...or one with citrus in it? Because...because there's...on top, it's an orange glaze. O-or maybe that means not…? Or maybe Darjeeling, f-for...because it’s light... R-really, anything..."

Sakaeguchi laughs, patting his shoulder as he steps past him. "I think perhaps coffee, since as far as tea choices go, I've got green or black." He fetches down the French press and unscrews the lid on a small canister of ground coffee, scooping several spoonfuls in. Mihashi leans his hands on the counter, watching him curiously, then peers around.

"Looking for the cake?" Mihashi glances at him, then nods vigorously. "You told me to put it in the fridge."

"Oh! Y-yeah..." Mihashi side-eyes him, fingers curling on the countertop. "I could. Out?”

Following Mihashi's body language is a bit easier than following his speech, but Sakaeguchi makes his best guess. “Sure! That’d be a big help.”

It’s comical, watching how just a few barely encouraging words make Mihashi swell happily, how pleased he seems as he takes the box out of the fridge and slides the cake on its card onto the small apple-shaped cutting board Sakaeguchi presents him with. Sakaeguchi fetches plates and cutlery and then turns to find Mihashi still standing with the cutting board, mouth opening and closing as he glances between the coffee table and the small dining table tucked between shelves of plants.

“Why don't we sit up at the table?"

Mihashi chirps out a happy affirmative and steps over quickly to set the cake down, Sakaeguchi following with a bemused expression. Cream and sugar are set out as well, along with a knife for the cake, and then Sakaeguchi tells Mihashi firmly to sit while he waits the last few minutes for the kettle to boil. He brings the coffee to the table, sitting kitty-corner to Mihashi and smiling at him pleasantly as he sets a timer on his phone. There's a text notification, but Sakaeguchi dutifully ignores it. Maybe in part just to savour the sparkle of anticipation longer.

"So. Mihashi-san, have you had the bakery long?"

Mihashi blinks at him, then gasps out, "N-no! It's not my... The bakery is...g-grandfather's?"

"Oh, a family business, then? I thought Abe said..."

"No, he! This, and...a school! And a few... But...b-because I worked here. And this...when I can afford, I want to, but..." Mihashi subsides, flushing.

Sakaeguchi tries his best to string that together into a coherent picture. "So then, you're head baker, or something?"

"Y-yeah!" Mihashi beams like he's relieved just to be understood.

"Well, I guess in a way, that's the fun part without the hassle!" Sakaeguchi indicates the cake, which is sweating slightly on the side nearest the French press; he shifts it further away. "You like coming up with new recipes?"

"Yeah!" Mihashi sits up straighter. "You mix...and then everything...together! Like...like baseball! Everyone together..." He hunches over, tapping his fingers together self-consciously.

Sakaeguchi can't help laughing at that. "So, do you make baseball cakes in the spring?" he teases.

"I do! Sh-shaped...diamond, or...balls! If I try to make a mitt...always, it ends up looking bad..." Mihashi looks deeply disappointed by this failing in himself, and Sakaeguchi resists the urge to pat him consolingly. "I...for T-Taka, I tried again, but it didn't..."

Sakaeguchi raises an eyebrow. "So what did you do with the reject, then?"

"I...I...ate it. With Yuu! Oh...I mean...that's Tajima..."

Sakaeguchi does chuckle at that, reaches across to pinch at Mihashi's ribs. "Where did it all go? You're skin and bones!"

Mihashi squirms like he's ticklish, hiccupping out a laugh. But the next instant, he's picking at a frayed spot on his jeans, lashes low. "But...but I _do_ eat lots! So...so I can... I want...stronger..."

 _Oh, shoot, I've gone and hurt his feelings..._ "Abe said your speed has improved a lot."

Mihashi opens and closes his mouth, then gasps out, “T-Takaya talks about me?”

Sakaeguchi presses his lips together in a perplexed smile. “Of course. If he talks about baseball, he talks about you.”

"Oh...” Mihashi flushes, gripping the sides of the seat and staring down at the empty plate. “We haven't...with a...properly, but! Takaya says he...he thinks!" Mihashi looks up briefly, then dips his chin, cheeks even redder. "M-maybe over o-one f-f-forty..."

 _At least that last bit made sense..._ "Oh? Still pretty slow, but that's not so bad, especially if you have the kind of control Abe was telling me about."

Mihashi ducks even lower, now fussing with the front of his hoodie again. Abruptly, he zips it up, seeming to startle himself. "I-it's more than I...more than I thought... But! But not s-so good as someone like h-Haruna-san..."

 _Of all the people to compare yourself to...?_ “Well, he’s certainly got power. But power isn’t everything in this sport, you know that.” Mihashi nods solemnly as though he were being chastised; Sakaeguchi frowns slightly, then brightens his expression. “Well, at least you’ve got him beat in the charm department, from what I’ve heard!”

Mihashi looks up at him finally, blinking curiously, and Sakaeguchi feels a surge of triumph. “Takaya talked to Sakaeguchi-san about...?”

“Eh?”

“About w-when Takaya was...and with...”

“What about...?” Sakaeguchi stares back at him, unable to parse out quite what Mihashi’s trying to say. Mihashi flushes and shuts his mouth, staring down at his hands. “Wait.” Lines come together in his mind, creating a possible picture. “Abe... Did Abe used to catch for him?”

Mihashi gives him a look like a drowning man who’s just been thrown a line. “Yeah.”

“In middle school, I’m guessing?” Mihashi nods. “Ah.” Sakaeguchi leans back in his chair, nodding to himself. “I gather it was a less than pleasant experience for him...?” _I’d heard that Haruna was charming enough when he felt like it, but rude, quick-tempered, and immature if he didn’t, and I’m sure he wasn’t any better as a preteen. Poor Abe._

“Taka said...he said Haruna was the worst...” Mihashi informs his zipper, which he’s pulled back down again and is fiddling with.

“Well. That’s rather harsh!” His phone interrupts with a cheery little snatch of a pop song. Sakaeguchi switches off the timer and sees to the French press. “Do you want to cut the cake?” he asks as he fetches the cups closer.

Mihashi nods, looking a little more relaxed with something to do. He pulls the cake over and picks up the knife, lining it up across the top of the cake for a second, but then hesitates. “I-in four? Or...”

Sakaeguchi grins impishly at him as he pours their coffees. “Hey, let’s not be shy about it. We’re eating the whole thing! Just cut it in half.” Mihashi beams back and sets the knife across the cake again, slicing it neatly in two, then distributes it to the plates and slides Sakaeguchi’s over to him in exchange for a steaming mug.

It’s hard not to be conscious of Mihashi’s intent scrutiny as Sakaeguchi picks up his fork and presses the side to one orange-glazed corner. It glides down through the smooth resistance of the top layer and then the silky thickness of the cream, through to the heavier texture of the base, pushing through with a lovely solid thunk. He scoops up the piece, then slides it onto his tongue.

The orange glaze hits his tongue first, brightness bursting against his tongue. As he bites into it, it’s beautifully creamy with just a hint of the squash’s pulpy texture. It’s not overly sweet, depending highly on the natural flavour of the kabocha, and he’s glad he hasn’t sweetened his coffee yet so it won’t compete. The base is buttery and solid with just a hint of orange to it as well, moist and rich without overpowering the cake itself.

Sakaeguchi realises he’s shut his eyes, and opens them to find Mihashi still watching him with an anxious little frown. Sakaeguchi beams at him, and Mihashi tentatively smiles back. “I feel as though I’ve eaten a piece of sunlight.” He shuts his eyes again, savouring the citrusy aftertaste. “It’s so light and refreshing for a cheesecake, but still satisfying. And the texture is wonderful, and—”

Mihashi outright squeaks, and Sakaeguchi pops his eyes open to find him covering his face, bright red.

Sakaeguchi sighs, leaning his chin on his hand and gesturing sternly with his fork in the other. “Mihashi-san, you  _have_ to know your baking is good.”

Mihashi peeks at him through his fingers, then shakes his head. “S-s-Sakaeguchi-san is...is...t-too nice... It’s just...it’s just...it’s not...”

“Mihashi. I would _happily_ eat this entire cake myself if no one stopped me, so you better stop fussing over _me_ and eat your half or I’ll steal it.”

Mihashi jumps, finally dropping his hands to give Sakaeguchi a wide-eyed look as though he were serious. Sakaeguchi takes a sip of coffee to cover the laugh he’s fighting down. But then Mihashi obediently picks up his own fork and digs in.

Mihashi looks so happy while he eats (if a little ridiculous), Sakaeguchi’s tempted to just keep feeding him, though he’s not sure what he would have that would adequately follow up the cake. Their conversation meanders to other topics, Mihashi telling him about some of the other players on the casual team and a bit about the people he’d played with in school, as well as listing other professional players he admires. (Sakaeguchi begins to notice a definite pattern in the pitchers he mentions.) He also talks a fair amount about Tajima in a way that makes Sakaeguchi suppose they’ve known each other from when they were fairly young. When he asks, Mihashi nods excitedly.

“I babysat him. When he was…well, not a baby! But...” Sakaeguchi nods, then laughs as Mihashi outlines some of his experiences looking after a small Tajima. The more he describes, the more it seems like Tajima spent about as much time looking after Mihashi as anything, or just dragging him around like an overexcited puppy.

Although Mihashi’s very obviously still nervous around him, he speaks a bit more easily as time wears on. Despite his curiousity, Sakaeguchi finds he can’t actually bring himself to press Mihashi for more information on Abe: it feels like it would be too easy to get this innocent young man to give up all kinds of secrets. And he likes to _think_ his primary goal was getting to know someone evidently still important to Abe's life.

And yet Abe comes up fairly often, partly because Sakaeguchi’s mind doesn’t ever drift far from the topic and Mihashi’s all too willing to pursue it. He discovers that Mihashi has been informed that they are dating, which leaves Sakaeguchi the one flushed and staring at his hands for a change. _But it’s been...less than a week! I’ve only told Wakako, so far. And completely avoided the subject with Misae today... I suppose I need to ask him if he's out..._

Mihashi pours (rather a lot of) cream into his second cup of coffee, looking at Sakaeguchi earnestly. “Sakaeguchi-san is really nice! So I’m glad that...that Taka...f-for Takaya...”

Sakaeguchi chuckles self-consciously, then follows it up with an arch look. “How can you be so sure? I might be awful once you get to know me!”

“I...I...” Mihashi opens and closes his mouth a few times, then lifts his chin defiantly. “Well, when _Taka_ talks about Sakaeguchi-san, you sound nice!”

“Ah...” Sakaeguchi can’t really find an answer to that beyond taking another sip of coffee to hide his expression a little, even if it does nothing to hide his pink cheeks. "Thank you? Geez..."

Eventually, though, the cake is gone and the last of the coffee drunk, and they've lingered over their now-cold cups as long as is polite. Mihashi leaves with more fidgeting over his outerwear and a shy offer, when Sakaeguchi invites him to come over again some time, to make him something special, which Sakaeguchi accepts with a delighted flush.

As soon as he shuts the door, Sakaeguchi grabs out his phone with a thrill of eager pleasure.

> [02:46pm]  
>  [Abe Takaya: Your friend has abysmal timing.]  
>  [I'm taking a nap.]

Sakaeguchi's smile fades into a pout. He lets his head drop with a sigh. _I suppose that's fair..._

Still, his mind drifts. Abe asleep in the waning light, rolled up in a cozy blanket or sprawled on his back, the topography of his body hidden and hinted at equally. The luxuriant rise and fall of his chest, perfect for laying one's head on, the mere thought of it making Sakaeguchi sag against the wall with a sigh.

> [04:02pm]  
>  [Yuuto: aww]  
>  [next time invite me ;3]

He wanders back into the living room, flopping on the cough with another punch-drunk giggle. Then squawks when his phone chimes.

> [Abe Takaya: You'd go for that?]  
>  [Screw dinner and a movie, next time I'm just asking you on a nap date.]
> 
> [Yuuto: you're awakae???]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Now, yeah]

Sakaeguchi slowly flops on his side on the couch, eyes wide, trying to form a coherent response and not just think about sleepy Abe.

> [Yuuto: sorry]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Nah, nice way to wake up.]  
>  [Except now I'm disappointed you're not here.]

He types out his response, but lingers with his thumb over 'send', pulse quick.

> [Yuuto: what would you do if I was?]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Probably go back to sleep.]

Sakaeguchi pulls a spectacularly unimpressed (but not particularly surprised) face at the windows.

> [Abe Takaya: But that wasn't the kind of answer you were looking for.]
> 
> [Yuuto: not exactly]  
>  [but I don't wanna pressure you into stuff!!]  
>  [ahhhh I'm so bad at this kind of thing]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: You keep saying that.]  
>  [I'd appreciate a chance to judge for myself.]
> 
> [Yuuto: AUGHHHHHHHHHH]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Now what?]  
>  [Please tell me you don't have more friends coming over.]
> 
> [Yuuto: NO]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Good.]  
>  [I'm supposed to tell you what I'm wearing, aren't I?]  
>  [I don't get that part. I'm just in sweatpants and my t-shirt from earlier.]  
>  [What's interesting about that?]
> 
> [Yuuto: THAT'S FINE.]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: What are you wearing?]  
>  [Do you have special cake-eating clothes]  
>  [Or just what you were wearing at work?]
> 
> [Yuuto: NO]  
>  [YOU'RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Doing what?]  
>  [Anyway 'no' doesn't help me.]  
>  [I need a visual, here.]
> 
> [Yuuto: I'M LYING ON MY COUCH WITH MY FACE IN MY ARMS BECAUSE YOU ARE TERRIBLE.]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Then how are you typing?]  
>  [Honestly, that sounds pretty cute.]  
>  [Is that the sort of thing I'm supposed to send?]
> 
> [Yuuto: NO]  
>  [YES]  
>  [VCXVZCJASDF]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: I'm not sure how to decipher that last bit.]  
>  [Are coded messages usually used in sexting?]  
>  ["I put on my spy hat and decoder ring..."]
> 
> [Yuuto: is that supposed to be]  
>  [Abe Takaya, you are officially banned from sexting for life.]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Right.]  
>  [Back to sleep it is.]  
>  [Or supper.]  
>  [You eaten? You should eat.]
> 
> [Yuuto: I just ate cake!]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Cake isn't food.]
> 
> [Yuuto: it had squash in it, it's practically a vegetable XP]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Well, I suppose I don't have to worry about you getting scurvy, then.]
> 
> [Yuuto: okay if it wasn't already, mood officially killed.]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: I dunno, it'd give you that rough piratical charm.]  
>  [And odour.]
> 
> [Yuuto: OKAY]  
>  [I'M GOING TO GO MAKE SOME PROPER GROWN-UP FOOD]  
>  [WHICH I DO ON MOST OCCASIONS, THANK YOU VERY MUCH]  
>  [AND COME UP WITH SOME NON-DISEASE-RELATED TOPICS OF CONVERSATION FOR TOMORROW]
> 
> [Abe Takaya: Are you planning to bring cue cards?]
> 
> [Yuuto: GOODNIGHT.]

Resolutely, he turns off his phone and shoves it in his pocket as he stands and nearly stomps into the kitchen. But he's smiling, goofy and embarrassing and feeling so exquisitely good, and when his phone chimes, he grabs it out eagerly.

> [Abe Takaya: Alright, then. Goodnight.]

While he's debating whether to answer or just leave it at that, his phone peeps at him again.

> [Abe Takaya: ❤]

Even more flushed, he stares at his phone. It should not be setting his heart pounding like this. But he loves it, loves that it does.

> [Yuuto: ❤]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this an improvement on the original? questionable. am I gonna post it anyway bc I feel unproductive and sad? yep.
> 
> Abe is def banned from sexting and I am probably banned from writing it
> 
> Buttercup: cheerfulness, childishness. Columbine: folly.


	11. Anemone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol warn for this chapter

The day is biting cold, and while it warms up as the hour of their date gets closer, Sakaeguchi's still glad of the cozy sweater he's got on under his peacoat and the scarf pulled up over his nose. He'd considered wearing a hat, but decided his slight amount of vanity wouldn't allow the possibility of hat hair. Not to mention there were a few fumbling make out sessions behind dugouts and in equipment closets that had taught him that kissing when wearing anything with a brim was a mistake. Not that it had stopped him then, nor would it have stopped him today, really.  _ Of course, not that I was assuming any such things would be happening today… Hoping, but not assuming… _ His already cold-nipped ears turn redder with his blush, and he presses his lips together against the goofy grin that threatens as he makes his way from the station to the movie theatre.

He's a little startled to see Abe waiting outside, though it makes his heart leap happily in his chest. It's nothing to the rather impressive flip it pulls when Abe spots him and grins. Sakaeguchi somehow stops himself from outright running, but still quickens his pace.  _ Well, and if I were running, I wouldn't have as much time to admire... _

It's one of the days when Abe has actually put on his dark navy wool coat, long enough to accentuate the angles of his body beautifully as he stands with his weight shifted a little to the right. It's still unbuttoned, a dark wine-coloured scarf hanging loose around his neck. Even though he’s wearing cozy gloves, Sakaeguchi can't help longing to stick his hands inside the open front, around Abe's waist, to press into the soft warmth of his sweater or up underneath, closer to hot skin. Just to warm his hands, of course.

When he arrives, Abe reaches out, grazing fingertips over his cheek, and tweaks his ear lightly. “You run, or something? You’re all red.”

“No! I...” Abe’s touch lingers on his jaw, and while his bare fingers are chill, it’s delicious on his flushed skin. Sakaeguchi shakes his head a little, trying to hide in his scarf, then gives in and pushes into Abe’s touch, eyes fluttering shut. When he opens them, Abe’s smiling at him again, a lopsided grin that nevertheless has a sort of tenderness about the eyes that leaves Sakaeguchi flushing anew and dropping his eyes.

Which is when he notices that Abe’s holding a small orange paper bag, the top secured with a slim bit of cream ribbon tied in an uneven bow. Sakaeguchi tilts his head, heart skipping a little. “What’s...?” Abe clears his throat, drawing the bag back as though ready to hide it, then thrusts it at him. Sakaeguchi takes it, staring between it and Abe’s (now red as well) face.

“You should open it now,” Abe informs the posters displayed out front.

“Oh! But...” Protesting refusals and assertions of  _ you shouldn’t have _ die on his lips; this feels like a moment when politeness would itself be impolite.

Sakaeguchi examines it with wide eyes before tugging loose the ribbon. Inside is a black metal tin adorned with meandering lines of little sky-blue and cream-coloured flowers. Already suspecting its contents, he opens it carefully before inhaling deeply.

“Like a bouquet, but you’ve  _ got _ plenty of bouquets, so...something a little different,” Abe explains to the posters. “It’s an Assam blend with cornflower and black currant.”

Sakaeguchi sniffs it again, breathing out a little chuckle. “Refinement. Suits tea. It smells  _ delicious _ .” When he looks up, Abe’s finally looking at him, a relieved expression on his face. Sakaeguchi quirks an eyebrow. “Did you think I wouldn’t like it?”

Abe grimaces. “I thought you’d tell me off for bringing a gift in the first place.”

“I like surprises," he says matter-of-factly, closing the tin and replacing it in the bag. "I'll just have to get you back at some point! But for now, this’ll have to do.”

He does indulge himself after all and slides his hand in to fit against Abe’s side, every bit as toasty and wonderful as he’d imagined, and stands on his toes to give him a peck on the cheek, clutching the bag against his chest. Before he can pull back, Abe catches him around the waist. And Sakaeguchi is all too willing to be caught, to wait the infinitely long breathless second before lips slide over his, bloom heat on the delicate skin and through every fibre of his being. He jiggles the tin free from between them, shoving that arm around Abe as well, almost tempted to drop it so he can curl that hand, too, in the plushness of his sweater, fully enjoy the thickness of Abe’s body.

They pull back with gasped breaths, coming together again once, twice, quick and full of their reluctance to truly part. But they do, eventually, though not before Sakaeguchi breathes, “Thank you,” against Abe’s lips, delighting in the shiver that runs through his body. Abe catches his free hand as he slides it out of his coat, and they turn to approach the box office like that.

They settle easily on an action flick and grab a small popcorn to share. Which Sakaeguchi finds himself resentfully wishing would deplete faster, since it interferes with important hand-holding related activities. Eventually, it’s gone, Abe crumpling up the bag and setting it on the folded-up seat beside himself. And then resting his hand on his knee, loose and inviting, if not quite a request.

On screen, the hero is giving some inspiring speech to the antagonist that will surely fall on deaf ears, and certainly, Sakaeguchi might as well be deaf for all the attention he’s paying to it, focused instead on lifting his arm, slow, as though not to spook Abe, until he can brush fingertips over the exposed skin of Abe’s wrist, the firmness of his forearms and the delicate skin covering his tendons. And then up, up, to slide his middle finger over the curve of the heel of Abe’s palm, skin rougher here and elastic, fascinating as it moves with the shift and jump of Abe’s hand, flexing, then curling over to brush his own fingertips over Sakaeguchi’s knuckles. And now this,  _ this _ is a request, a  _ stop dicking around already _ , and Sakaeguchi chuckles as he slides his hand into Abe’s properly. But his laughter cuts off when he looks over at Abe’s face as he looks down at their joined hands, because this, it feels too much like coming home, even sitting together in a chilly movie theatre with explosions playing in the background and some teenagers yelling excitement and the slight lingering oiliness of the popcorn on their fingers, he feels at rest with this small contact and he sees that same quiet happiness in Abe’s face. The sort of expression he dreams of waking up to every morning, seeing at the other end of a couch, coming in the door to at the end of long days, turning in the shower to find and smooch, hell, catching a flash of from the other side of a pitcher’s mound... All this, all these tiny moments and more, every day, until he’s old and grey and creaky and still feels this same bright affection flooding through his body at the sight of this handsome man.

Sakaeguchi has to look away, staring unseeing at the screen, feeling the flame of his cheeks and the thump of his heart with a bemused wonder.  _ You’d think I’d be old enough not to get so flustered over just holding hands! _

Abe slouches down in his seat, weight shifting towards Sakaeguchi, and he nearly vibrates with the urge to pull him those last few centimeters to rest on his shoulder. But he doesn’t, just savours the exquisite frustration of Abe so close to him. And perhaps a little bit stubbornly waits for Abe to close the distance himself, if he wants to.

As the credits play, Abe helps him back on with his coat again, and it leaves Sakaeguchi flushed anew and realising too late he could have done the same. He indulges his poutiness about that as they follow the flow of the sparse crowd outside, gets it out of his system so that by the time they emerge and Abe turns back to find him, he’s all smiles again. Though he finds himself startlingly flustered and shy when his eyes flick down to the hand stretched back towards him. Such a natural assumption, a small gesture, and yet it feels as good as the most passionate kiss to hurry the last half-step and slip his hand into Abe’s, to be pulled forward and close enough that their shoulders bump. Sakaeguchi laces their fingers together, humming happily to himself and swinging their arms more than necessary. He can see Abe side-eyeing him with a bemused expression, and after a moment Abe bursts out laughing.

“You’re way too easy to please.”

He blinks over at Abe. “I am?”

Abe looks ahead, tugging slightly on his hand to direct them around a corner. “Well, not like I’m complaining.”

Sakaeguchi gives him an arch look. “The relationship's still new, maybe I'm just letting you off easy. Perhaps I’ll become more discerning as time goes on. Make you work a bit harder.”

“Don’t.” Abe grins down the street, then gives Sakaeguchi another sidelong look. Before he can do more than give him a quizzical glance, Abe raises his hand up in front of himself, switching his grip to his wrist. Their steps slow as Abe tugs on each finger of Sakaeguchi’s glove in turn, then pulls the whole thing off, stuffing it into his far pocket. Sakaeguchi watches with wide eyes as Abe twines their fingers together again, lowering their hands to shove together into his other pocket. He finally pulls his eyes away to look up at Abe’s smug grin, which he keeps as he says, “If you become harder to please, I’ll just up my game. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“You cocky bastard.” He undermines the impact a little by giggling and, if the heat of his cheeks are anything to go by, blushing brilliantly enough to be obvious even in the gathering gloom. In vicious retaliation, he squeezes Abe’s hand and kisses his cheek.

The walk isn't much farther, though it's far enough that Sakaeguchi can fully appreciate the difference in temperature between the hand gripping the bag with the tea and the one nestled against Abe’s. A few more corners, and they're staring down a dark and not particularly promising wooden façade. When they push inside, it’s to a wave of heat, the smell of hearty food and stink of cigarette smoke, the hum of low chatter, and dim light. But not the sort of light cast by intimate candles and made for leaning close and speaking quietly, for catching flickering on teeth and throats and hands, no, it’s the sort of light meant to ease the eyes of the weary on their way home from work, to counterbalance the fluorescent glare that seems to linger in the eyes and catch dry at the back of the throat long after work has been left behind.

His face must betray some of his taken-aback feeling, because when he looks over, Abe's examining him with as close to an uncertain expression as Sakaeguchi's ever seen on him. Abe looks back at the restaurant, releasing Sakaeguchi's hand before nodding to a disinterested-looking man behind the bar. As they thread their way to a table near the back of the still relatively quiet room, Sakaeguchi tugs off his other glove, shoving it in his pocket while eyeing Abe's back and debating whether to grab the other off him. He decides it doesn't matter, and then they're draping coats over the back of chairs and settling into their chairs.

Abe clears his throat, chin lifted a little. “I guess this isn’t exactly a prime date spot.”

“No, it’s not.” The words come out snippier than he intended so Sakaeguchi softens them with a small smile, catching Abe's eye. He reaches across to grab Abe’s hand again where it’s curled into a loose fist on the table amd tugs it towards the centre, curling his other hand around it, his brows lifted as he chooses his words. "For one," he inclines his head towards the bag he's set on the edge of the table, "you've already pulled off enough of an unexpected romantic gesture for a first proper date. And for another, if it were important that we go somewhere romantic, I like to think I would’ve said. What’s important to me  _ now _ is getting to know  _ you _ . This,” he gestures at the restaurant, then goes back to cupping Abe’s hand, stroking the backs of his knuckles, “is getting to know you.”

Abe looks down at their hands, fingers curled around Sakaeguchi’s, then finally meets his eyes, mouth quirked in a lopsided grin. “I see. So you’ll be notifying me when I need to pull out the grand romantic gestures? Handy.”

Sakaeguchi sticks his nose in the air with a huffy, “Yes!” then chuckles, dipping his chin to give Abe a coy look. Then finds himself turning pink and dropping his eyes when Abe reaches out to curl his other hand around theirs.

_ Before we were dating, it was so much easier to look at you. Maybe it's because now I know for certain you're looking back. _

Abe tugs their hands back towards himself a little, then just squeezes the one caught between his own. To cover the flutter of his heart and the desire to stand and lean across to kiss Abe, Sakaeguchi hums thoughtfully, then asks, “So. Tell me why this place, since we’ve established it’s not for its romantic ambiance.”

Abe jerks his head in the direction of the menu. “They were near where we were going, and they have good donburi and cheap beer.”

Sakaeguchi waits a few beats for more, then, when it becomes evident that it’s not coming, snorts out a laugh.

“What?” There’s irritability lurking in Abe’s tone.

“For all that you’re a very complicated man, you have some very simple corners. It’s refreshing.”

Abe squints at him a moment longer, evidently deciding whether to take offense, then sighs, fingers twitching against Sakaeguchi’s. “So. I’m ‘complicated’, am I?”

Sakaeguchi studies his face for a moment, only just opening his mouth when a young woman with a notepad appears. They make apologetic noises and dutifully pick up the menu cards. Nothing out of the ordinary; Sakaeguchi quickly decides on the pork bowl and one of the aforementioned cheap beers. Abe also orders several appetizers, staring Sakaeguchi down as though daring him to protest. And then the server bustles off and leaves him considering the worn wood of the tabletop and trying to remember whether he’d had a good answer to Abe’s question or not.

“You don’t have to respond to that.”

“Mm?” Sakaeguchi looks up, finding Abe gazing at him steadily, though his hands are tucked into the crooks of his arms where his elbows rest on the table. Sakaeguchi narrows his eyes at them very briefly, feeling somewhat cheated. “Ah. Is that an  _ actual _ ‘you don’t have to’ or a ‘please don’t’?”

Abe sighs, raising one hand to rub his forehead. “The former,” he grimaces, eyes covered by his hand, “I think.”

Sakaeguchi huffs out an amused breath, then insistently tugs Abe’s hand away; he reaches to cup Sakaeguchi’s cheek briefly, then lets him reclaim his hand on the table. “Well, in that case, yes, you’re complicated, but I think perhaps easy is not the one I wanted after all.”

“So there was ‘easy’ that you were considering?”

Sakaeguchi flushes, then laughs, and now it’s his turn to cover his mouth self-consciously. “Well, the ‘easy’ I was considering was not considering me, which I suppose makes it not so easy after all. And besides, like I say: something more appealing than 'easy' showed up.” His eyes flick up, a teasing light in them. “And then went around being all handsome and grumpily considerate and waiting in the rain to bring me a latte..."

Abe blinks at him, then huffs out a laugh. "I was pissed."

"Were you? Really?" He presses his lips together to suppress his laugh, though not hide it.

"I was! You had the exceptionally poor manners to come barging into my shop, even hotter up close—”

“Oh? ‘Up close’?” _Hot_ _??? _

Abe pulls a face, fingers twitching against Sakaeguchi’s, then colour floods his cheeks. He slaps his free hand across his face, then drags it down, peeking over it, lips curling up in an abashed smile. “I...like taking my breakfast break outside, if the weather’s nice, and it just so happened I took it late one morning.” Sakaeguchi’s own cheeks burn already, and he turns Abe’s hand in his own to make a thorough examination of his palm. “You were setting up. You just looked so damn  _ nice _ , smiling and greeting people who passed by. You shine. Like something out of a movie, like a little bird was gonna come down and light on your finger—”

“Wha...?!  _ Stop! _ ” Sakaeguchi swats at Abe’s arm, finally meeting his eyes. Only to see a lightly sadistic glint in them.

“And that wasn’t the only time. Stuff kept happen—” Abe frowns, covering his eyes again with a self-conscious little laugh. “No, let’s be honest, I delayed on purpose. I was nosy. And, sounds like something you would say, but it felt good just to feel that pull toward someone. Was enjoying that. Didn’t  _ intend _ to do anything about it, but…” Abe’s voice is so much softer than usual. “I’m glad I did.”

Sakaeguchi blinks at him for a moment, then finally gives into his urge to stand, pulling Abe’s hand away from his face as he leans out across the table. His thumb brushes Abe's cheek, their breath playing over each other’s skin for a long, exquisitely painful moment before he tilts his head and shifts forward the last little bit, pressing their lips together.

It’s not the place for a lingering kiss but that only makes it sweeter, making himself pull back long before he’s ready with the ghost of Abe’s lips still on his own. He sits back down reluctantly, slowly drawing his hand back, savouring the way Abe’s eyes are still closed, his face soft and mouth just barely open, like part of him’s still hoping for another. It’s too much, too irresistible, and he starts to stand again.

And then plonks back down in his seat heavily, a little embarrassed, when the server arrives with two bottles, a plate of gyoza, a dish of sauce, and a few dishes of pickles.

Feeling giddy and fizzy with happiness, Sakaeguchi sips the beer, watching Abe do the same and trying not to think about how he’ll no longer taste like salt from the popcorn, how he’ll taste of the spicy tang of the pickle and that faint bitterness that is always so much more intoxicating on another’s lips. His cheeks burn anew, and the bottle splashes a little as he lowers it hurriedly, so that he’s left covering his mouth and groping for a napkin. Abe hands one to him with an impatient huff.

“You alright there?”

“ _Yes_ , thank you.” Sakaeguchi drops his head to hide his face in the napkin briefly, then blinks up at Abe. “Just getting myself flustered, watching you.”

Abe wrinkles his nose. “I was drinking a beer. What’s fluster-worthy about that?”

Sakaeguchi sighs in mild exasperation, then smiles fondly. “You don’t have  _ any _ idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”

Midway through another sip of his beer, it’s Abe’s turn to choke. He watches his own hands carefully as he mops up a few drops of spilled liquid. “I don’t think about that kind of thing.”

Sakaeguchi slides his chopsticks out of their sleeve and breaks them. “Well, I’m happy to think about it plenty enough for you.”

Abe grumbles out a low noise, scrubbing his face with both hands, then grabs his chopsticks to help Sakaeguchi tease off one of the gyoza before snagging one for himself.

They suddenly develop an intense need to discuss the film, then move on to other less mortifying subjects. Though Sakaeguchi frequently finds himself distracted just watching Abe, just letting his warm voice wash over him. Their food comes, which mostly occupies him, until Abe settles in his chair and sticks his feet out. He starts to draw them back, apologising, but not before Sakaeguchi hooks a foot around his calf briefly, smiling smugly into his bowl. Abe chuckles and leaves his legs stretched out. It’s lovely, a small invasion of space that is nevertheless just comfortable, and a point of contact that doesn’t interfere with eating or talking.

And it’s not enough, but that in itself is heaven.

He considers saying as much to Abe, but decides to hold back. Besides, he’s perfectly happy just to listen to Abe (somewhat contemptuously) outline a particular strategic failure on the part of the catcher for the Tigers that had cost them a game last season. “There’s bold and then there’s just cocky. If you try to grab too much, you're gonna end up losing the whole damn game. I learned my lesson, got that shit out of my system in my teens...” Abe’s attempting to draw out a diagram of the pertinent play on the table with the condensation from their (third) beer bottles; it is dubiously helpful, but endearing nonetheless.

Which reminds him. “What, like, with Haruna?” Not exactly the way he’d intended to ask about it, certainly not with the modest amount of beer in his system already making it hard to control his tone.

He sobers up right quick when Abe shoots to his feet, chair scraping backwards loud enough to draw curious looks from some of the other patrons.

“Excuse me.”

It’s not so much a question or a request as it is a statement.

That he’s fucked up. Stepped on a landmine.

Except he is very obviously not the one who’s been ripped open.

“I heard...you were catching for him. In middle school.”  _ What the hell didn’t Mihashi tell me? I know that guy can be an asshole, but what did he _  do _  to you that’s leaving you with a look in your eyes like that? _

Abe sits, though his hands are tensely splayed on the tabletop and his eyes are unblinking on Sakaeguchi’s face. And his face, his face has gone that dead neutral that wounds Sakaeguchi, especially when he knows that  _ this _ time, he’s  _ definitely _ responsible for it.

Finally, Abe swallows, blinking, leaving lashes low over averted eyes. “Who... Izumi?”

“Mihashi.” As soon as the name is out of his mouth, he almost wishes he’d lied. Or could step backward a minute in time and never have spoken at all, or better yet, go back to yesterday and not have made that idiot move in the first place. Because now it feels wrong, it all feels horribly wrong, except he doesn't know why.

“Why were you talking to Mihashi?”

_ I had good reasons. I just hope you can see it that way, because I’m starting to doubt them myself, right now. _

“I just popped by the bakery to check it out. And because,” his own hands are clenched around each other in his lap, tight enough to hurt, “I can see he’s important in your life, and I wanted to get to know him…”

“‘Wanted to get to know him’.” Abe’s tone is caustic, almost mocking. “That’s one way to put it. Others might call it snooping.”

Eyebrows pulled together in a worried frown, Sakaeguchi tries to catch Abe’s gaze. Unsuccessfully. “We just sort of…ended up hanging out,” he explains lamely.

And then Abe does turn back to look at him, and Sakaeguchi almost wishes he wouldn’t, because all he can see in his eyes is a shallow anger pulled like a blind over something else, something he’s disturbed, something he’s been poking at for a long time, and has now reawoken in Abe, vicious and painful.

“My life is not some book you can pick up and open as you please. You had no right.” It's almost that much more awful because Abe doesn't swear, doesn't raise his voice, just keeps that same clipped, even tone.

Sakaeguchi drops his eyes to his own hands where they now rest on the table in a loose triangle, posed as though reaching. “I won’t go see him again.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” Arms crossed over his chest, Abe slouches back in his chair, but there’s nothing relaxed about the pose. “Don’t want that. Goddamnit, Sakaeguchi...” Abruptly, Abe sways forward, elbows heavy on the table and fingers pressing into his forehead. “Don’t make assumptions about—”

“I’m just trying to be helpful, I’ve obviously hurt you—”

“Yeah, well,  _ stop _ helping.”

“—but if you won’t  _ talk _ to me, I won’t know how not to hurt you again!” He keeps his voice low, mindful of the other patrons who are now very pointedly not looking at them.

“Well, maybe I just shouldn’t give you that opportunity again.”

Sakaeguchi stares at the table in front of him, feeling his stomach drop. The dark grain of the wood seems somehow unreal to his eyes. Or perhaps it’s that he just wants this moment to be a bad dream. A tasteless joke. Something to be swept aside to make way for the conversation they  _ should _ be having here. For any conversation, anything other than Abe scrubbing his face viciously and then standing again, this time with a gravity, a finality about it. Sakaeguchi watches him dumbly, feeling as though he were caught in slow-motion even as his mind races to come up with some response. He finally persuades one hand to move, to reach out and grab Abe’s coat sleeve as he does it up.

_ If he really wanted to leave, he would’ve done it up on the way out.  _ “Don’t go.” _ I think. _

Abe doesn’t reply, just holds something out to him. His glove. Sakaeguchi takes it, looking at it rather than the impassiveness of Abe’s face.

And then, whether he wanted to be stopped or not, Abe turns away, not looking back as he settles his bill at the end of the bar and then strides out.

He’d like to leave, too, but he wants to give Abe a chance to put some distance between them.

_ Or maybe I should be going after him? Fuck _ . He shoves to his feet, eyeing the remains of both their suppers sadly as he swings on his coat. Gloves and scarf, he pulls on as he hurries to the cash, tea tucked under his arm.

“Oh...he settled up for both of you...” The server attempts a smile at him, and Sakaeguchi does his best to return it despite his frustrated embarrassment. And then he’s swinging around and breaking out into the cold evening.

But the second he’s there on the street, he just looks back and forth, seeing no sign of Abe. One way lies the station, but he’s pretty sure it’s not that far to Abe’s from here, almost as close as walking to and from train stations... And Abe seems like the type to walk at a time like this.

_ But I don’t know. Because I barely fucking know him, yet. _

_ And now I might not get to. _

Feeling sick, he tips his head back, looking up at the stars. Faint here in the city, but still so clean, so clear in their dark blanket.

* * *

 

The tea, as it turns out, is delicious.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me n em: hahaha, we love Sakabe! what a nice happy ship where everyone is just chill and sweet to each other all the time!  
> me n em: *write shit like this* HAHAHA. NICE SHIP.  
> *quietly throws self into the ocean*
> 
> btw I'm prolly gonna put up the first chapter of White Chrysanthemum after this, which is a prequel to this work. so uh. if you like emotionally complicated smut, then look forward to that???
> 
> Anemone: Unfading love, truth, sincerity, anticipation, forsaken, fading hope. Also a straight-up allusion to the sea creature.


End file.
